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Album
Review
Rick Ross - Port of Miami The Scoop on Rap's New Fat-man. by: Malik Sinsear, for Entertainment
With his street anthem Hustlin’ practically owning the first half of the summer, I was optimistic that Rick Ross could emerge from the Sizzler buffet to claim the number one fat-man spot. Then I listened to his album, Port of Miami and now I’m not so sure he should leave his seat, conveniently placed next to the fried shrimp and clams. And that’s not to say Port isn’t a pretty good album, but there are a few things that I’m kind of torn over. The CD’s opening song Push It sounded like another bad remake waiting to happen, but luckily for Ross, he didn’t go the Cam’Ron route, but instead decided to make a totally different song. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case with I’m Bad. It’s a double L for Ross, literally, as he not only jacked James Todd for his classic track, but also incorporated the theme music from S.W.A.T. I’m serious. I know LL is somewhere bench pressing a case of steroids mad as a motherfucker. Oddly, Port’s weaknesses are often saved by its strengths. Let me explain. This album is plagued by Ross’ identity problem. One minute he’s imitating LL with I’m Bad then he’s all Jeezy with the adlibs not to mention the track on the obvious attempt to recreate Soul Survivor, Cross That Line featuring Akon. After that Rick does his Lil’ Wayne proper flow thing on White House, then ends the album with his homies, the Carol City Cartel aka the Miami Outlawz on I’m A G, where Ross plays the part of Pac, of course. I know it sounds really bad, but surprisingly much of the time, Ross’ jack a flow and flip it-formula works, which shows that he has that fat-man charisma I was talking about earlier. Trying to figure this album out was like watching one of those “Dino’s Dilemma” from the old Flintstone Kids; my conscious just won’t let me lean too far in one direction. One minute the Miami Boss is stumbling over some ode to beast sex on Hit U From the Back, then he’s just plain beasting on It’s My Time featuring Life Jennings. Port of Miami really holds a strange quality for an album, but just to illustrate how effective it is when you understand it, check this out. Rick has a track called Pots and Pans about crack (surprised?), which features some dude crooning a horrible chorus, but I absolutely love it. Why? Because it brings back memories of the late 90’s when I used to drop $9.99 every week for the latest No-Limit album with recycled beats and god-awful chorus’ featuring Mo B. Dick and that one brawd with the gap that was wider than a four lane intersection. … Mercedes, that was her name. Remember that ad now?
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FIYA NBA Ranks: #9 |
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The
dates March 9, 1997 and Feb 7, 2000 mean different things to
different people. Most will probably agree that those were
days in which the Hip-Hop community lost two of its most promising
stars. While I wouldn’t necessarily disagree with that
sentiment, I can’t say it’s first thing that pops
into my head. Biggie and Big Pun were indeed great emcee’s,
but just as importantly, they were fat emcees and since their
passing, we haven’t had a premier fat guy walking back
and forth across that stage struggling to catch his breath for
his next set of bars and that bothers me. The fat-man title consisting
of skills, style and charisma began with Prince Markie Dee of
the Fat Boys, has been passed on to Heavy D to Big then Pun,
and has been vacant since the top of the millennium.