Detroit's Guilty Simpson is a bruiser. His gruff voice falls over the beats like two-ton boulders, and his rough-hewn lyrics shatter the stereotype that underground emcees are squeaky-clean, grad school poets. "This is not rap, this is a warning," he spits on "Yikes," and Guilty packs guns and "get[s] bitches" in his search for hood riches. The beats here are ridiculous. Madlib's "The American Dream" brings an Indian squawk, D12's Mr. Porter laces "Get Bitches" with churning swagger, and Black Milk delivers his brand of gritty, soul minimalism to a handful of tracks.