"He raps often about crimes he's committed, but the songs don't have the cinema of street rap. His attention to detail purposefully drains the adrenaline out of the scenario and leaves a quotidian focus on the smallest facts of the situation-"Four deep, five seats, three guns," he observes on "Get Paid", and this is almost all you get. "The sheets and crosses turned to suits and ties/ In Black America, can you survive?... No hopes and dreams, just leave us be, we leaning on the Bible," he laments on "C.N.B.", an expression not so much of defiance as a simple plea for peace. Sometimes, nothing feels as real as simple weariness, or wariness".