Long Beach rapper Bad Azz made a name for himself during the peak of Death Row Records’ heyday. In 1996, he appeared on two of the label’s high-profile releases, Makaveli and Doggfather. However, like most of Death Row’s supporting cast, his career went into limbo following the death of Tupac and the subsequent incarceration of CEO Suge Knight.
To his credit, Bad Azz didn’t stop hustlin’. He signed a solo deal with Priority Records, recruited some old friends in Snoop Dogg, Lady of Rage and The Outlawz, then released his debut LP in the fall of 1998, Word On Tha Streets. The album was pretty decent and a mild success on the West Coast. In 2001, he released the underrated Personal Business on Snoop’s Doggystyle Records label but the album flopped.
They say the third time is a charm and Mr. B-a-d is back with the appropriately titled Money Run. Appropriate because nearly every track and all of the cover art and inserts revolves around the guy’s bank account. Let’s just say that this theme gets old really quick.
There’s not much point in breakin’ down the lyrical content. Nearly every track is pretty much one variation after another on how much money he’s got, how great his cars are and all the bitches that want him. In fact, the only fun in an album like this is pickin’ apart some of the more ridiculous verses, such as this gem from In 2gether Now:
“My pockets obese like Ricki Lake.”
Oy. To the album’s credit, the production is occasionally pretty inspired. The opening track, If It’s Hot is laced with a surprisingly layered and subtle drum/drumclap approach that should be used more often in Hip Hop. The beat for California Sunshine is tight as hell…until you realize that it was lifted from Dr. Dre’s last album.
We’re not ready to hand out another zero score here, kids. There’s actually one very good track to be found. Here’s a shock: it’s one of the only times Bad Azz deviates from spittin’ rap clichés. On My Street the content plays out like an open letter to the hood. He seems sincere as he asks us to strengthen our communities by givin’ back to them with our love, time and effort. In addition, on Ghetto, Bad Azz does manage to drop a line about his upbringing that almost shines:
“Here…we all so close/you know all the rats/and every single roach.”
The times where Bad Azz spills his proverbial heart are few and far between. He comes with another in a long line of tired rappin’ love songs on Come And Get It, which is notable only for the 30 seconds he’s on the mic and the four minutes of hook. Unbelievable.
