Rick Ross. *sigh* Ricky, Ricky, Ricky... much like Lil Wayne, what can be said about the wonderful failure that this man has become? I'm not going to compare their paths, but let's look at both of their careers and how we, the adoring public, have been able to literally follow them from disc to disc since they first showed up. I can vividly recall Lil Wayne's first curse-free foray into the realm of hip hop music as much as I can recall Rick Ross' spot on Trina's Diamond Princess album and... I was mildly (emphasis on that word) impressed.  Compared to the beat heavy, lyrically substandard work that would follow in his debut album it was something to behold.

It's hard to not like Rick Ross at this point.  He successfully made us all fans with the repetitive Hustlin' way back when, proved himself to be a force to be reckoned with with his second album, Trilla, and finally did the impossible and made me a true, TRUE fan with Deeper Than Rap, and the brilliant production was the reasoning.  Rick Ross is special in that he knows how to choose perfect beats (I'm looking at YOU, Nas...) to compliment his style, and this is only amplified by the single most irresistible thing about this guy: he's still improving.  If someone would have told me years ago that Rick Ross, former correctional officer and Big, Black, and Ugly spokesman, would be a rapper I'd like to listen to when I was 21, my exact words would have been, "Rick Ross?  You mean that bitch that did Hustlin'?  Nigga please!"  Now I'm one of the first to advertise the greatness of Maybach Music 2.  Things change, eh?

I wasn't looking forward to Teflon Don when it was first brought up; I'm a Rick Ross fan but not a fanatic.  I'm still not doing cartwheels (and neither is he... ever) for this guy because a hip hop album is influenced by two factors: the rapper and the people that provide the backdrop for the rapper, aka the producers.  Ross has always known who to get to provide the background music; he's like a filmmaker in this respect, knowing just who to enlist to make his stuff that much better when it isn't.  That's been Rick Ross' style since Port of Miami and it hasn't changed here.  The album starts off with the mediocre I'm Not A Star.  Nothing spectacular about this track but, as stated before, he's improved with every album so far and you can hear how much he's grown lyrically in this opener as opposed to something like Mafia Music or Trilla.  We move right into Free Mason and we come to the first roadblock of this album.

Features on a solo album have a habit of hindering the product (unless it's a Wu Tang album).  John Legend assisting on the hook is something that most artists consider (and rightly so) a good move, but Jay-Z's inclusion on the track almost ASSURES being outshined.  However, considering the subject matter and the timeliness of the song Ross stands surprisingly strong with Hova's dismissal of any Freemasonry or Devil worship (a lot of hypocrisy with those two things together but this is neither the time or place).  Keeping in line with the singers on the hooks, Ross skillfully restricted the incomparable Cee-Lo Green to hook duty on Tears of Joy.  The song itself is fine, and No I.D.'s production is pretty good, but it's nothing we haven't heard before.

Next we have Maybach Music 3.  I LOVE the Maybach Music songs thus far, because the beats are epic.  This is no different.  However, while the lovely Ms. Erykah Badu is on the hook and T.I. and Jadakiss deliver acceptable verses (though Jada is a liar and he knows it, eh-heeeeehhhh) they severily make Rick Ross seem irrelevant on his own track, even if he does have a select part of the song to himself a la Notorious B.I.G. in All About the Benjamins.  There's a problem with the growing ego Ross has with minor comparisons between him and Biggie but that can be addressed later.  After the production of Maybach Music however, we're given the Kanye/No I.D. produced Live Fast, Die Young and, no surprise, Kanye (as with everybody) murders Rick Ross on his own track.  The song is long for no reason; it serves no purpose as the longest track on the already short album, but to its credit it has Rick Ross' most impressive lyrical attack in the album so far, better than that of the radio-killer Super High, featuring Ne-Yo.  It's a good track, sure, but that's like saying Nothin' On You is a good track for B.o.B.  In fact that song was okay but far below the skill level of B.o.B. (and Lupe Fiasco for that matter).

No. 1 plays like a spiritual sequel to collaborator Diddy's Hello Good Morning, taking away points for originality.  The rest of the points are lost for sounding generic and dull.  This is a common problem in many albums but when it's a rapper like Rick Ross, who oozes (quote me) "vastly improved mediocrity" then it's a MAJOR problem.  MC Hammer features everyone's favorite career jailbird and walking accident Gucci Mane (no, I DON'T like him lol) and it is the weakest lyrical track on the album.  It has Ross reverting to his pathetic skill level from Port of Miami and Gucci Mane's verse is as tolerable as lukewarm champagne or overexcited women, as Orson Welles would say.  Considering the same producer (Lex Luger) does Blowin' Money Fast and MC Hammer is should be no surprise that they sound surprisingly similar.  No, seriously, if Styles P wasn't on the track then I would have thought it was the same song.  Stand alone it serves it's purpose as a single but with the abysmal MC Hammer coming before it on the album AND the extended return of the Port of Miami flow, the album starts to go downhill.  WAY downhill.

Aston Martin Music is exceptionally smooth in it's production, another car-themed gem from the shining stars of Rick Ross' albums: the J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League.  While Chrisette Michelle and hip hop's current golden boy Drake (singing, not rapping) make the track, Rick Ross carries his weight (I... will... not... make a joke... here...) and delivers on what might be the smoothest song on the album, showing his improved skill once again.  Granted, some of us are a bit disappointed that Drake isn't rapping on the album, but with his monotone voice and tendency to (a) end his lines with "yeah" and (b) use "I" in everything that could be a good thing.  Finally we come to the very end of the album, the horizon-looking All the Money in the World, featuring the legendary (yeah, I said it) Raphael Saadiq.  This song is, for lack of a better word, good.  As a closing track it does exactly what it should: properly bring the album to a classy conclusion with style, much like The Game's Why You Hate The Game? or Drake's Thank Me Now.  And that's the album in so many paragraphs.

So what's wrong with this album?  I could say it in short form and just give each issue a little line, but I'm the Infamous DiZ: I give you at least TWO lines for that shit.  Problem one lies with the number of collaborators.  I'm not referring to the singers or those that do the hooks, but the rappers.  Few great solo albums have featured a lot of outside help.  Jay-Z, for example, had only Eminem on Blueprint and it's a classic.  The goal is to not have the help outshine the main participant, and Rick Ross only "renegades" Gucci Mane; quote me: THAT IS NO ACCOMPLISHMENT!  Anyone that tells you it is is lying or trying to sell you something.

Another issue with the album is Rick Ross' own ego.  I loosely compared his career to that of Lil Wayne's at the beginning of this because they both have ever growing egos and massive heads that are only expanding.  While Lil Wayne is somewhat justified in his big headed state of mind Rick Ross isn't: to this day he hasn't actually released anything that would warrant him having such a cocky nature outside of maintaining street credibility after cop work and us seeing past his shades.  He's always improving, that's apparent, but not to this extent.  This ties into the hinted at Biggie comparisons.  Simply put: no.  Hell no.  No fucking way in hell.  FAIL.

Issue 3: production overtaking Ross.  This is the biggest one.  I fell in love with the J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League after Maybach Music.  Outside of the similar works from Lex the production on Teflon Don is simply stellar.  Every beat (except for Lex's) is epic like something out of a summer blockbuster or a summer tear-jerking drama.  That's how a great beat is supposed to be, but the rapper has to stack up to the backdrop laid out for them.  Ross rarely does that; in some cases the track is only good because OF the others on the track.  If this album were nothing but instrumentals and the singers on the hooks, minus those from Lex, it would probably be a near-classic, but as it stands Rick Ross' ego and "vastly improved mediocrity" can't carry a full album on his own, not yet.  At this rate it's a matter of time, but even I have to admit that it's a considerable amount of time.  The album is okay, but nothing breathtaking.  Keep at it, Ross.

The DiZ score: 3 out of 5