Nuthin’ 2 Prove, like it’s 2018 predecessor, Lil Boat 2, largely sees Yachty spinning in place, warring with his past and grasping at a murky future.

The times when it succeeds are when Tinashe doesn’t overdo things.

It pans out as--at the very least--a unique and varied production that asks to be received seriously, even if Riff Raff’s choppy, uneasy flow and absurdist imagery runs counter to that.

Self Made Vol. 3 won’t silence the haters of Rick Ross’ MMG movement, and it certainly does not break the mold of previous iterations in the series. However, the album’s hits should have a lasting impact, serving as jump off points for several of the artists on the label.

Ace is still aiming for the club on certain tracks. His enthusiasm and rapid-fire flow sound at home over the menacing summer jam “Bugatti” with the warbling hook of Future or on the triumphant “We Outchea”. But on other tracks, like the flimsy Chris Brown-assisted “Rider,” he comes off clumsy and out of place.

While God of the Serengeti doesn't blaze any new ground, it is a release that will hold up to the Paz's legacy on the underground scene and will surely satisfy long-time fans.

While the LP is worth the wait and a worthy debut, it lacks the explosive selections and raw exuberance that put Vic’s Innanetape mixtape in classic territory and ignited his buzz.

Brevity in music can be good, but some of these songs seem to end as quickly as they start, and could be fleshed out a bit. Desiigner’s lyrics also seem to be limited in subject matter, and the themes of the song can all seem the same after a while.

It's a pretty fun album to listen to--just don't listen too closely.

It works just fine and follows the blueprint of most major label projects today. The thing is that, in doing so, Curren$y loses some of the magic that makes him a true original.

Although D4 will not be celebrated as much some of his other work, he does reminds all why Hova considered sending "D.O.A. (Death of Auto-Tune)" to "the Mixtape Weezy."

Not unlike Lasers, lots of songs on this album have focused verses from Lupe and large scale, sing-along choruses from featured guests, which both helps and hinders the overall listen.

On songs like “Kyrie” and “Gmail,” he briefly lives up to that raucous potential. Unfortunately, the missteps--the thin singing voice used on “WESPN” and awkward yogurt references of “Danimals”—hamper much of the promise.

The LP is fun and a return to what hip-hop started out as in the parks--a way to rock the crowd and have a good time.

While BS may not exhibit the growth sonically or conceptually that fans may have anticipated after hearing Cole’s early work, he remains too gifted lyrically, too keen of a storyteller, and too emotionally open for his sophomore LP to be anything less than impressive, but not overly so.

A scattershot collection of fresh-yet-familiar thumpers that will nicely keep the Migos brand bubbling through the forthcoming solo sets from kinfolk Offset and Takeoff. This is step one in building anticipation for the inevitable reunion record of three voices that, until proven otherwise, are best experienced playing off one another.

There is a lot of content geared towards the party, bullshit and get money topics that are present in rap culture. However, the production (which is mostly done by Bobby Ray) evokes a deeper appreciation for his music as a whole.

When he does step out of his zone, his temperament--hood and Memphis to the core--feels out of place. But luckily for Gotti fans, these moments of mediocrity are brief. On the majority of I Am, he stays rooted in the ideas and melodies that he’s been refining since he first dropped From Da Dope Game 2 Da Rap Game over 10 year ago.

The lyrics on this album are more of the same.

With No Hard Feelings, Dreezy attempts to find a happy medium between street rapper and silky songstress. Fans of her harder bars and grittier raps will be championing for the former while those looking for versatility will appreciate what she has to offer here when it comes to her sing-song flow.

While the tape may not win Gucci many new listeners, it should satisfy his already established fanbase.

Black Milk’s versatility shines on Hell Below, even if at times some parts felt disjointed. This is a small complaint for an overall album that culminates in the talented musician effectively communicating a consistent concept through the LP.

Chris Brown and Tyga have given fans what they wanted, but with an abundance of turn-up tracks, the album fails to tackle more serious topics, as the duo has in the past on “Deuces.” It’s a wonder why they avoided the prior formula this go round.

There was opportunity on Blue Slide Park to genuinely capture some real elements of youth, and the album doesn't capitalize on the opportunity.

There are no lyrical acrobatics-just his patented simple-sounding yet soon-to-be-sewn-in-your-brain one liners.

The self-proclaimed king has his fair share of high moments on the project but the room for growth lies in his subject matter. Money is the motive for Dolph yet he doesn’t venture too far away from the green to give listeners a distinct variety in subject matter.

The album doesn’t come without its criticisms, though. “Only 1,” with its elementary hook and flimsy delivery, seems tired and immature. And “Chain Smoking” with Curren$y and labelmate Stalley disrupts the cinematic flow of the album. However, Gunplay delivers on the overall theme of showing what made him a living legend.

Napalm is a well-rounded LP full of illustrative and cohesive tracks, while surviving a few average hooks, such as on "Gangsta Gangsta."