For Rick Ross it’s never been about substance. He’s a style whore and proud of it. But even in a world where nothing is what it seems, Ross’ biggest bugaboo has been his credibility. Much of his reputation comes from his vast network of friends who tend to do all the posturing for him, which – let’s be honest – isn’t totally uncommon in rap. It’s just that coming from Ross it projects as jokey and even a bit lazy like he’s trying to find a nonexistent niche between loafer and village idiot. Instead of finessing his way around a mishandled image he just bowls his way through his sixth LP Mastermind, giving up intricate details in favor of flashy, meaningless taglines. It’s the same old Rick Ross, and here are five lyrics that prove he’s anything but a mastermind.
The first of many contradictions going on, Ross praises righteousness one moment and then shamelessly promotes degeneracy the next. It’s a huge booger hanging from the proverbial nose, and it makes everything he says seem trivial and fake – not a good way to open an album. The garish trumpets and crashing cymbals only make matters worse as it essentially announces him as the most flashy royal ass in the kingdom: [LISTEN]
Ross’s street credibility is thinner than a loose leaf sheet of paper, and while the verdict is still out on whether or not he is who he says he is, that insecurity does manifest in his lyrics. He takes a moment to express how hard he’s worked to get to where he’s at, but the gun cocking beat does little to garner any sympathy. It is an attempt at honesty, but who knew that would mean admitting to eating garbage: [LISTEN]
Producer D-Rich serves up a tasty, g-funk inspired beat for Ross to flex his storytelling abilities. But instead of being a stealthy cat zipping across alleys he’s a rabid possum frothing at the mouth and stumbling over garbage cans. He tries to fire a shot or two, but in place of gun powder and moxie is a foot in the mouth and a shameless promotion for Wingstop: [LISTEN]
This star-studded banger has a good dose of soul in the beat, but the lyrical content just lays it all to waste. It’s not asking a whole lot, but the type of spirit in Betty Wright‘s voice should demand something on the level of religious revelation. Instead, all that occurs is a bunch of bragging and boasting with Ross being the most inept and flaccid of them all: [LISTEN]
Closing out the album with a single tear is no way to leave a lasting impression. Or at least not the one Ross wants. It’s a weak attempt at sentimentality, and is an awkward fit for an album that does nothing but dodge the obvious question. Lil Wayne only makes matters worse, and just when it’s ready to bottom out it plunges even deeper with yet another shout out to one of the most overrated seasonings in the world: [LISTEN]