There's nothing ludicrous about Ludacris giving his fans exactly what they want, and it's even less ludicrous that he will probably convert more new fans on the strength of "Release Therapy."

RZA is certainly experimenting on a bunch of tracks, but results are unconvincing.

There's at least one cringeworthy line in nearly every song.

I suspect as Ross continues to evolve as a lyricist there will be even more of a message in his music, but in the meantime the production and guest stars on "Trilla" make for an effective album that shows Ross has yet to tap into his full potential.

There is very little humour and some of the production is flat out boring.

I like what I see and hear on Tha Carter IV and no one is going to convince me he isn't a full-fledged artist worthy of being the household name he now is.

Songs About Girls is an album that theoretically has no end and doesn't need to have one.

Busta Rhymes has finally made an album that works from beginning to end--it is just a shame that the lack of crossover hit singles will doubtless leave BOMBS a slightly unappreciated gem.

“Lil Boat 3” finds Yachty syncopating and stretching beyond his naturally baritone voice. He sounds more self-aware than ever, channeling his beloved infectious energy as the main driver for the album, rather than his erratic lyrical ability.

Most people will want Wiz to succeed, as he does successfully come across as likeable personality, and even Rick Ross has displayed a genuine hunger to improve, so anything is possible. But this album is, put simply, one that won't make much of an impression, good or bad. And that's the worst kind.

It's not that the album isn't good, it's that it pails in comparison to "Jackpot."

The range on "The New Danger" is as broad and deep as the Brooklyn Renaissance itself.

“The Coldest Profession” is certainly Roc Marciano and DJ Premier doing their thing, but it turns out that two greats of Hip-Hop combining doesn’t guarantee greatness.

Despite some lyrical flaws here and there, it still shines.

Utterly forgettable and insubstantial, No Mercy is a contrived, sputtering guest-filled affair certain to alienate his longtime fans and disappoint those who jumped aboard for "Paper Trail."

As a mixtape, it works, but is nothing more than generic New York street rap set to some largely forgettable instrumentals.

By bringing his beats up to date he may not only win back some old fans but convert a few new ones in the process by showing them he's more than just a Hollywood actor.

His original army of fans, however, will surely enjoy most of the elements of Relapse and it certainly sets up the sequel nicely--though it might be wise to include a few more crossover hits on the second installment, you know, for everyone else.

He’s not quite a great artist. He simply exists, but to those who want more of what XXXTENTACION offered without having to buy 50 posthumous releases, he’ll do.

He's still solid with the flow and constructs rhymes that are both interesting and intense, making The Seventh Seal a worthy purchase and return for a man who was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, God without end--Rakim. Amen

This two-hour epic may not be his best work, but it’s his most Game album yet.

"Occasion" is an abomination by all standards, but that it comes from such a respected entity as Kidz in the Hall makes it even more inexcusable.

Ultimately I have two complaints about Blue Slide Park which in the grand scheme of things may be minor.

The hard truth is that “Dope Don’t Sell Itself” takes a tumble down into the same hole of forgettable 2 Chainz albums that has become home to the likes of “Trapavelli Tre’”, “Pretty Girls Like Trap Music”, “Collegrove” and the like. 2 Chainz seems burnt out.

I can listen to “Mansion Musik” for 76 minutes and it’s fine as background music, but if I start paying attention to tracks like “WITCHCRAFT” the bars are so relentlessly negative it accidentally becomes a turnoff.

Ultimately the album gets away with overly familiar breaks thanks to the superb level of stars. ... It’s not his best compilation, it’s not his worst, but it’s another one.

This results in a lot of victories but not a whole lot of personality, and the closest we get to seeing Khaled's soul is the fact he tends to favor putting the Southeast's finest from Pitbull to Rick Ross on his tracks.

Scott Mescudi may be many things and nothing all at once but he's definitely not the "same lame old same thing."