2 Chainz - B.O.A.T.S II: #METIME | Album Review | By Volume

The kid that went down isn't dead; he just can't find his phone. The Hold Steady - Almost Everything
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2 Chainz

B.O.A.T.S. II: #METIME

I’ll take an entire record of 2 Chainz ad-libs please.

Comments (0)
Author: on October 29, 2013
4.9
Def Jam
September 9, 2013

I feel like 2 Chainz is constantly miscast in a bad light. The thirty-six-year-old  father truly seems just happy to be here; while he can’t seem to keep himself from getting held-up or arrested on possession charges (or in a recent case, an escalation to firearms), the man is deceptively intelligent. Fiercely so, it seems, if he’s afford a moment to speak. I’d venture he sits up there with Rozay as one of the better guest rappers in existence, too; he possesses this weird allure, one in which he generally and unfortunately drops stinker records that are impossible to ignore. 2 Chainz may go down in rap history as delivering one of its most wonderfully facetious lines in: “she got a big booty / so I call her Big Booty!” – but he deserves to be remembered for his dedication to the game.  He is gracious for his ridiculous second chance. Rising from the ashes of DTP after taking a bullet and dismissing his old moniker Tity Boi, Tauheed Epps continues to grind, in the purest sense, allocating some paper while allowing us to enjoy in the fun.

This all being said, B.O.A.T.S. II: #METIME isn’t all that good a record. It is certainly more polished and plush in comparison to his reincarnated debut, but this doesn’t distract from the multitude of bad choices made in the form of shit guests or gelatinous filler. Coma inducing levels of saccharine slush overload your consciousness, making B.O.A.T.S. II at times feel like the Drakes Fruit Pies of 2013 hip hop: this is sugary, syrupy-thick and while you know you shouldn’t, the processed treat is still scarfed joyously. Later though, upon recollection, you wonder what was so enticing about that crusty, gooey brick to begin with. “Beautiful Pain” may be that juicy filling, “Feds Watching” the apple chunks, but to get there you need to crunch through the likes of “Mainstream Ratchet” and “Netflix”.

So what does this leave us with? A record that should be approached like a parent removing sandwich crusts for children, maybe;  nearly every track requires a trimming of fat, frequently in the form of piss-poor guests (Fergie and Weezy in specific) that squander some excellent beats. 2 Chainz himself is rarely cold on B.O.A.T.S. II, even as he continues to cultivate his place as one of hip-hop’s worst lyricists with an otherwise good-to-great flow. Thing is though, he is rarely the reason why this record falters.  Take “Netflix” for example; the song begins with a grimy, downright infectious C.N.O.T.E/Diplo beat. Electronic-strings cascade, reverb distorts the low-end and when the beat dips, it can be cavernous. “Let’s make a sextape and put it on Netflix” he emphatically requests, cheekily setting the stage for Fergie to take a vocal dump. “When I die, bury me inside the liquor store” she requests, donning her best Iggy-Azelia-flow, lest we forget: “cause when I die, Fergie still gon’ be gettin’ dough (ohh!).” 2 Chainz isn’t really the problem here. He has turned into a bit of a punchline monster (in sheer grandiosity of influence as opposed to actual talent), but it is something he is pretty fucking skilled with. His albums are funny and not so much quick witted as plain-out laugh-inducing. Sure, this is hardly a reason to champion someone, especially an artist who could ascend to a huge stature, but I think the man deserves more credit for having a little fun. Or really, being unafraid to aspire to do nothing but that – treat yourself.

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