XXL. 4.5 stars. 9.1/10. A.\nI can't say much that hasn't been said about Clipse's Hell Hath No Fury. But I'll keep writing anyway.\nThis is the best rap album since Lord Willin', their last effort. Thank God for Jeezy, Rick Ross and a few others who kept coke-music breathing during Clipse's 4-year layoff. But the games are over. \nThis is Clipse's The Chronic, their Illmatic.\nThe brothers Thorton are purebred coke dealers and it shows. Ross can't leave the hustle of the Miami coke scene and his music suffers from the raw. Jeezy can't leave the music long enough to remember his former struggles. \nClipse left dealing, but dealing can't leave them -- it's in their blood. It's in their music: "Keys Open Doors" is a double entendre, to be interpreted both straight forward and as a tale of using money from kilos (keys) of cocaine to ascend into the world of Tony Montana. The album's simple blasts sweep away the transgressions of, among others, Jay-Z, or, worse, subsequent comparisons of Jay's un-retirement to Michael Jordan's return to basketball. \nThe lyrics innovate and, unlike other rappers, they create without robbing blind their contemporaries. Anyone who turns eenie-meenie-minee-mo into a verb, continually innovate the ghetto standby "ice" and .. well, you'll either get it or you won't: "The black Martha Stewart / let me show you how to do it / break down pies to pieces / make cocaine quiches / money piles high as my nieces." Enough written. Almost.\nThe album burns like uranium is on the tracks: The beats go yard on each song. They alternate between Jupiter and Queens, between spacey backdrops with militant drumming on the side and block-busting beats with bomb ticks and squeals over the top. \nThe Neptunes, rap's millennial-era savior, produce their best beats for this duo, who share a home town, Virginia Beach. Pharrell Williams and Chad Hugo (who make up The Neptunes) give me the chills. Blastin' "Hello New World" or "Trill", I'll "ride around shinin' while I can afford it" with "plenty ice around my neck so I don't get nauseous / float around in the greatest of Porsches / feel like a chuck wagon cuz I'm on 12 horses." \nI couldn't say it better myself. But I'll keep writing anyway.
They are, in fact, so trill
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