While Ludacris may be professing loudly to do it for hip-hop on his latest album, it's refreshing to know he can do it for hip-hop and still do it for the mainstream who may not realize just how artful he really is.

While EVOL seems to be more consistent than "Purple Reign," it doesn't quite hold up to his previous releases. EVOL leaves you wanting more but not in a good way.

When push comes to shove, there are only about three songs here that merit that kind of mindshare--and none of those come close to his best singles. By his standards, Mastermind is technically a good album, but neither timely nor memorable.

May be one of 2004's most important rap records.

Even though some might miss Slug's angst-ridden diatribes (Lucy Ford is nowhere to be found on this album), he manages to toe the line between rapper and griot better than he ever has before on this new effort.

So long as you don't expect Shakespeare and don't presume this to be a rap album, you won't be mad. It's pure pop done the way Pharrell does it.

Lyrically, let us not sugar coat the situation and pretend that he's some sort of Pulitzer prize winner in waiting. But in conjunction with the upgraded music, 2 Chainz has definitely put more work into his punchlines and it is most welcome.

"Kingdom Come" is everything you expected.

There’s so much that could be done with a Northern UK emcee to celebrate a part of England that has numerous industrial cities with interesting stories, but Aitch’s message doesn’t register as well as it should thanks to production akin to a box-ticking exercise.

At only 26 minutes “Fuck the World” is (more than) a little on the short side, but it’s still long enough to make a powerful impact with a croon as opposed to a boom from the cannon. The only other complaint I could issue is that at times Brent Faiyaz is self-indulgent to the point of straight up misogynistic attitude lyrically.

His technique has a strong propensity towards predictable stream-of-consciousness rhyming.

The soulful production, harnessing plenty of live instrumentals, mixes well with the lingering hints of MMG production.

Ed Sheeran is an impressive talent, but his juvenile lyrics and lightweight sensibility make him a tough sell to any one old enough to drink.

On his new self-titled album Future loses sight of qualities that made his last run at the top a memorable one.

Migos don't glorify the trap, they reflect it, and when the hood doesn't need the trap then there won't be "Trap Funk" any more.

Nelly's taste in beats for "Sweat" is almost impeccable, and it's easy to imagine three or four of these songs all being singles.

The problem for Wiley on 100% Publishing is that things just vary too wildly from song to song.

In its best moments, Made in the Manor transcends time--and even place--and attains universal meaning.

The music is solid rather than stunning, but that allows the MC's to shine – and make no mistake, this is a real MC's album.

It's an excellent original product from young inspired artists. If you are looking for underground musicians who are about to explode, look no further than these two.

This is Cube's strongest performance musically and lyrically in many many years, so he's not only forgiven for using such an absurd word, he's actually given me hope that it might eventually show up in the hip-hop dictionary.

It’s difficult to gauge its direction, and it often seems aimless and forgettable, despite some interesting experiments here and there. Overall though, it’s a continuation of their gradual decline since their stellar debut, resembling more a mixtape of half-formed ideas than a cohesive, fully realised project.

He's been afforded a rare amount of artistic freedom on 2014 Forest Hills Drive and there aren't even any singles, so it's great that he's more or less delivered. But whilst this definitely misses out on classic territory, that doesn't mean it isn't a bloody good album for the most part.

Lyrically, Sway is on fire (take that as read for the whole album) and his tongue-twisting raps will dazzle any unfamiliar ears.

Minus the niceness of "Manson Murder" and "Hater Love", this should have been a mixtape as it isn't a patch on any of Styles' previous LPs.

The watery wave of “Payback”, the reverberating bass of “Traffic”, the head nodding flow of “Dead Presidents”, it all works. The lyrics? They sort of work. 03 sings his way through songs like the latter track, and while he’s mostly just flossing, he occasionally takes the time to call out peers who have let him down by not being as G as he.

At times Sovereign exceeds at being entertaining and at other times her simplistic lyrics, heavy accent and electronic beats prove to be too much to grasp.

It's not his greatest work but it's easily one of his most ambitious, which still makes it an album worth celebrating and listening to, though perhaps in smaller doses than an hour and a half at a time.