ing Krayzie Bone and Erykah Badu. It’s great to hear Krayzie back in action, and his verse flows well with both M1 and Stic Man. The beat is entrancing, and Badu gets the opportunity to exercise her vocal abilities. “I Have a Dream, Too” is one of the more controversial tracks on this album. M1 lays down a verse describing a drive-by targeting the cops. This sounds like one hell of an interesting dream – actually, it sounds like a low-budget hood movie. Next, we continue the lyrical adventure with “D.O.W.N.” The simple beat possesses a certain ambiguity, with a deep sound that dominates the beat, contrasting the quasi-chanting and giving the track an original feel. On this track, dp brings classic, timeless wisdom like “Can’t tell by no tattoo / can’t tell by no handshake / it starts with the heart being down, it’s an attitude / doing what you have to do for the crew’s sake.” Track five is a remix, but the original in-depth track doesn’t come until the end. The next song, “W4,” is dedicated to everyone working a 9 to 5, paying their taxes, and then having nothing left over as evidence of their work. This slower, mellower track is a nice change of pace. You’re probably thinking that this seems a little too mundane for dp, so they add their own twist to it, comparing taxes to slavery. M1 and Stic Man even offer a plan of action: “Run up to the White House and kick in the door.” Now, I wouldn’t necessarily recommend that solution, but it’s nice to hear MCs speaking on real issues. The next track, “Radio Frequency,” has a nice vibe, and they assure us that they “refuse to be a stereotype,” implying that radio is restricting “propaganda.” I think most people can agree on this one. Next, you know a track is going to be rather interesting when it starts off with a toilet flushing. And no, it’s not a big shit, it’s that alkee-hal. “Fucked Up,” is, exactly as the name implies, a track about alcoholics. Most people can relate to a time when they’ve been bent over the old toilet bowl, or watched a friend hurl the unrecognizable remnants of Corona in the crapper. For dp, this is an interesting detour from their normal topics. Speaking of detours, the next track, “50 in the Clip,” is a workout track. Yes, you read correctly: this is a workout track. But the workout is not a normal workout - it’s a workout for inmates. This song clocks in at only about two minutes, after which there is a countdown for fifty pushups. Get your fat ass on the floor. As the sweat pours, track ten kicks in and the intro has you thinking you’ve heard this on an Eminem cut already. “Way of Life” is about the trials and tribulations of life. The snare kicks in with a dominating sound, as dp discusses “the fear, the focus, the aches, the pains, the trial and error, the ranks and belt, the spiritual growth,” and more. Next up is another remix to “Hell Yeah,” featuring Jay-Z, and then the original “Hell Yeah,” which is well worth the wait. They pose some vital questions after the first verse, “Ain’t you hungry my nigga? You want to get paid my nigga? Ain’t you tired of starving my nigga?” If nothing else, I’m hungry and starving for some more dead prez. This album is a strong statement to the labels that shitted on dp in the past. This album is a middle finger from all dp fans stuck up proud and firm at the haters. Let the revolution begin! - Rohit Loomba, ctpros@arcaneproductionco mpany.com
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OZONE MAGAZINE MARCH 2004