Beeda
Weeda the 22-year-old MC/Producer, hailing from Oakland, CA claims to
be a Stunnaholic. Maybe that statement would have more validity if his
album were actually good. His debut album, Turfology 101
drops at the end of August.
Although
Beeda Weeda is entrenched in the Hyphy scene, Turfology 101 doesn’t
reflect that particular culture, but it does however seem to vacillate
between a stereotypically southern sound and a stereotypically west
coast sound. Rife with “hoodisms” that have become the typical
idiosyncrasies of rappers who rap about “da hood,” you almost wonder
if the whole album is a spoof because for some reason, it’s just not
that believable coming from him.
It
opens with the three main rules of “Turfology.” Number one of course
is no snitching because, “snitching is like pork to a Muslim, we loved
it but we will do without it.” Number two, no turf hopping, you have
to hold your block down of course, and number three, don’t get high
on your own supply. Apparently, these three rules should get you started
and the rest is up to you. Yep, you basically just imagined what the
rest of the album is about: How gangsta Beeda Weeda is, tearing the
club up, how fly and flashy he is and men, if you’re not careful,
he will f**k your b***h.
The
production is lackluster and out of 16 tracks there isn’t really one
that is very interesting at all. For example, “You cry and
say it’s lies but I…I try to tell you that I only want you in my
life. I’m out hustling late night all night. But understand love I’m
only tryna get it right.” This was excerpted
from “Soldier,” the song “dedicated to all the women out
there who got them a soldier who’s out in the streets doing whatever
he do, hustling and grinding to take care of them.” And I believe
Destiny’s Child created that monster.
There’s
also “Wet.” “Inches on my neck yeah, I’m so wet, piece
on my chest yeah I’m so wet, mouth draped in baguettes yeah I’m
so wet, got your girl undressed saying I’m so wet.”
Need there be more? Another song is “Be Like Us,”
inquiring whether anyone wants to be “gangstas,” “killas,”
“hustlas” or “thugs” like them because they
have “money,” “power,” “guns” and “drugs.” There’s
also “Rippa Slippas,” “Back of the Club,”
“We Ain’t Listening,” “Stomp,” etc.
Ultimately,
music depends on a matter of taste but generally wack is wack. And this
is a new coaster.
