Best gucci mane albums post prison
For every bar detailing his lean addiction, there’s three or four where he’ll comment on the purple pubic hair of a lover or propose his son growing a vulva if Guwop isn’t really a millionaire by now. The sober Gucci offers a stark improvement on how he manages every side of himself: a man with redemptive intentions, emerging from solitude to face the repercussions of his villainous ways while reveling in what made him the hood favorite. I recall his role in Spring Breakers as a perfect frame for this attitude: he got a white girl shot in the arm and told a woman her sexual prowess is like “playing Mozart on my dick.”
#Best gucci mane albums post prison full
Gucci says it best on “Out Do Ya”: “I’m not politically correct cause bitch, I ain’t no politician.” Such an assertion demonstrates full awareness of where he stands, but remains a tongue-in-cheek moment where Gucci simmers in his own irony. Some of the bars are too wordy, plenty of the images border on absurdist, and all of the songs breathe with the comfort of his unparalleled dominance. It’s his party, he’s still the best, and he’s responsible for half the game he returned to. The two remain atop their thrones as the most prolific architects of the South, building the context for the third architect to return to his throne.Īt 52 minutes, Everybody Looking feels like an extended victory lap through the grisliest and goofiest signature traits of Gucci’s character. It’s not a randomized compilation with tacked-on features from the heatmakers of the moment, but a definitive signifier of the Trap God’s return: an album, done in a week, with Mike WiLL and Zaytoven at the helm. On Everybody Looking, it’s clear Gucci’s had the time to marinate in these very concerns (“They call me crazy so much, I think I’m starting to believe ‘em / I did some things to some people that was downright evil.”) But this album serves not as a time to wallow, but to get back to business. The glee surrounding his return is easily matched with a cautious prayer that he’s finally back for good, finally equipped to give his demons the shake. Though his team dropped several seemingly-random mixtapes since his 2014 federal stint began, Gucci’s traction remained shaky at best, especially after wave after wave of Atlanta rappers indebted to him met mainstream, or semi-mainstream, success. (Thankfully, he’s adopting Snapchat to catch up on the beneflex via modern technology.) Guwop’s weathered many a storm of his career in the face of a saddening recidivism a testament to his struggles with substance abuse and violent tragedies harkening back to his old life. The most-notable change: he’s present with a smile, serving the rest of the summer on an ankle bracelet with his girlfriend, a pool, and an array of “clean, but opulent” jewelry. He’s been sober for three years, his trademarked belly abandoned for a combine-ready wide receiver build. Welcoming someone back - to the game, to the outside - is best served outside of a selfish craving for creative output and inside a grand sigh of relief that an artist we love wasn’t consumed by their confinement to the point of no return.įrom all indications, Gucci Mane( ‘s clone?) came back a different man for the better. It remains one of hip-hop’s most joyful cultural moments, borne on a spectrum of shifting contexts and unfortunate circumstances. There’s no phenomena like watching a rapper come home. This week's album is Gucci Mane's Everybody's Looking, his first LP since being released from federal prison to house arrest.
Every week, we tell you about an album we think you need to spend time with.