Styles P

This begins with chirpy radio fair "Blow My Mind" and "Let's Go," but soon makes its descent. Paranoia and pain are ever-present and hang over the songs like cold mist. The NYC lyricist opens "Green Piece of Paper" with the simple declaration, "Lot of pain, you learn to live with it, though," before confiding in the second verse that "I guess it's the stress/ that makes us a hot mess." He finds an outlet for his malaise on "Shoot N*gg*s," threatening to "paint n*gg*s burgundy." The album's production, smoky and spare, appropriately matches the dark mood.