My Gut Reaction: Rick Ross - Trilla (March 11, 2008)

Back when I started this project eleven years ago, I envisioned HHID as a place where I would discuss, at length, the catalogs of rappers I enjoyed listening to, while hoping to be exposed to different voices I would never have looked for otherwise. Throughout all of this, I wanted to maintain my own voice, however ridiculous, sarcastic (reviewing rap albums at length is a very silly gesture, and at its height HHID functioned as an elaborate work of satire, a trait I hope hasn’t been completely lost in my foolishness), pop-culture-y, or downright fucking mean it could be, and I, like most people on the Interweb, threw whatever barbs I had in the direction of those artists who I felt weren’t adding anything of note to the culture. I still do that today, but less so and in a more pointed way (seriously, why hasn’t anyone taken care of that convicted child molester yet? I have yet to meet anyone who truly enjoys the output of that Jared Leto’s Joker of a “rapper”, and yet he’s inexplicably more popular than a lot of folks (and yes, I realize this has been the case forever in every medium for every generation, but seriously, a convicted child molester?!)), but the ensuing years have calmed me down significantly, leading me to accept some artists who I would have quickly dismissed back then, looking to them with fresh ears and a willingness to learn why they’ve earned whatever acclaim they have.

That’s why I first started writing about Rick Ross, by the way. And that’s how we begin my write-up for his sophomore album, Trilla.

Former corrections officer-slash-current Wingstop entrepreneur William “Rick Ross” Roberts released his debut album, Port of Miami, in 2006, which inexplicably hit the top of the Billboard 200 chart upon release. This served as validation for Rozay, who toiled away at Suave House Records at the beginning of his career (originally under a different nickname, Teflon Da Don or Tephlon, depending on the source you seek) before securing a deal with Slip-n-Slide Records, which had a distribution deal with Def Jam at the time. While he recorded some songs under the Suave House umbrella (including a cameo for, or all people, Erick Sermon for his Erick Onasis one-off), he never managed to release an album, so for Willy to have such an impact upon the more mainstream side of our chosen genre was pretty huge.

Trilla is Officer Rick Ross’ official sophomore album, following 2007’s Rise To Power, a compilation released by Suave House as a way for them to earn at least some money from Rozay’s original work. Sonically, it picks up where Port of Miami left off: at least at this point in his career, Rozay favored slick, professional and (more often than not) 1980’s-influenced musical backing for his boasts-n-bullshit, which, unsurprisingly, played well in his home state of Florida. (It’s little wonder why Willy is friends with Puff Daddy: with his instrumental preferences, he would have fit seamlessly onto Bad Boy Records post-Biggie, and probably would have been signed by the man had he made his mark a few years prior.) Like its predecessor, it debuted in the top slot of the Billboard 200 upon release, which only gave the man more power within the industry: shortly thereafter, he was given his own vanity label, Maybach Music Group, to which he quickly signed a bunch of rappers you’ve likely heard of, such as Meek Mill, French Montana, Wale, Gunplay, and Stalley, none of whom appear on Trilla.

Ross does manage to secure cameos from popular artists for his second outing though: Lil Wayne, Young Jeezy, and Jay-Z all return for the second round, while Nelly, and (ugh) R. Kelly also lend their names to the project. Rozay even managed to ascertain the location of former Cash Money Records beat maestro Mannie Fresh to both work the boards and speak a bit. Speaking of the production side of things, there is also some overlap from Port of Miami to Trilla, but this time around Rick Ross ups his instrumental game, inviting the likes of Bink!, Drumma Boy, and J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League (a duo who have a slew of production credits but may be best known for their work for our host) to the party alongside returning guests J.R. Rotem, The Runners, DJ Toomp, and DJ Khaled, who allegedly produces a track on both albums but I don’t buy it.

Odds are that you two had already made up your mind about both Trilla and Rick Ross before you even managed to read this far into the review. That is, if you’re even still here, which, if you are, congratulations! I’d send you a cookie, but I seem to have misplaced all of your addresses at the moment. But you should still try to go into Trilla with an open mind. At least that’s what I’m telling myself to do. See you on the other side.

1. TRILLA INTRO

In which Willy offers shout-outs to a rather lengthy list of people, including his own fucking self, because of course Rick Ross is the type of dude who would pull that kind of shit. Some of these lines rhyme, so “Trilla Intro” qualifies as an actual song, but it’s one that doesn’t do an effective job of setting up Trilla, unless you’re going into this expecting the album to suck. The J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League instrumental is something that exists, technically, and Officer Richard is overconfident and cocky, informing the listener that he’s “too trill for these fuck n----s”, an array of whom must have been in the studio with him at the time, because why else would he use the specific demonstrative “these”? Anyway, this was terrible.

2. ALL I HAVE IN THIS WORLD (FEAT. MANNIE FRESH)

Something you two may not know about me: I think Mannie Fresh is underrated as fuck when it comes to production. I don’t necessarily love everything Cash Money put out during the Hot Boys era, back when he was handling the beats for entire albums at a time, but I found his work behind the boards largely catchy as hell (sure, it’s fairly mainstream at this point, but the beat to B.G.’s “Bling Bling” is fucking fire), and I was disappointed when he all but vanished from the public eye, popping up periodically for stuff like 2 Chainz’s Cash Money homage “Used 2” and this Scarface-sampling track, which is… well, folks, it’s not great, but at least the music bumps the energy level of Trilla up several notches. Willy spends several bars rapping the phrase “thick pussy”, while Fresh performs the hook, boasting about “Japanese denim, money stuffed in ‘em” (I assume he’s referring to the pockets, but who am I to judge). Admittedly, the track is catchy, even though the song is fairly bad overall, so maybe listen to it once. But just the once.

3. THE BOSS (FEAT. T-PAIN)

Somehow “The Boss” wasn’t the first single from Trilla. That doesn’t sound right to me, but if I’m being honest, I wasn’t paying close attention to every time our host popped up on the radio back in 2008. Like I wrote above, I was a different person back in the early days of this blog. Anywho, J.R. Rotem’s radio-friendly instrumental kicks off with an air horn, leading straight into guest auto-crooner T-Pain’s vocals, which make up the type of hook that (a) he was really good at doing at this point in his career (there’s a reason the man was so successful, please stop being so dismissive), and (b) would have probably been given to a DJ Khaled “posse” cut had Ricky not purchased it for his own personal use. T-Pain’s contribution is by far the most memorable piece of “The Boss”: aside from our host’s opening line, “I don’t make love, baby we make magic” (italics mine), I honestly cannot remember any of Ricky’s rhymes on here. But I don’t hate the song: it’s the kind of perfectly serviceable rap radio filler that you’ll find yourself singing along to in the club after a couple of tequila shots.

4. SPEEDIN’ (FEAT. R. KELLY)

Wait, “Speedin’” was Trilla’s first single? I’m calling bullshit: I didn’t remember anything about this track at all. I suppose maybe the problematic (I’m being polite here) (I know, why am I suddenly being so polite, right?) child-molesting golden shower appreciator Robert Kelly was still popular enough in 2008 to warrant the lone song he appears on to be pushed by Def Jam’s marketing team, but this example of yacht rap is almost exactly the same as “The Boss” in what it manages to do: reintroduce Officer Richard to the masses after Port Of Miami’s “Hustlin’” unexpectedly became a (surprisingly big) hit for The Home That LL Built two years prior. Except R. Kelly somehow still had enough clout to force through a performance of his own, as he wasn’t content with just the chorus. I mean, maybe this really was the first single from Trilla, one that was quickly replaced by “The Boss” because nobody gave a shit about this paint-by-numbers Runners production? That’s my feeling, anyway.

5. WE SHININ’

It’s going to be an uphill battle if you wish to convince me that Bink!’s (boring) instrumental for “We Shinin’” wasn’t originally conceived for Jay-Z’s The Blueprint or The Blueprint 2: The Gift and The Curse. Hell, it even sounds almost exactly like No I.D.’s (also rather dull) beat for the latter project’s “All Around The World”. As expected, Officer Rozay doesn’t talk about anything on “We Shinin’”, referring to himself as “Mr. Miami” and shouting out his Triple C’s crew, which is apparently still a thing to this day, but he also name-drops his Maybach Music team, and this is before the song “Maybach Music” even pops up on the tracklisting (and long before that label even existed). I know, that last sentence would seem eerier if artists were forced to record all of their albums in sequential order. But you have to understand: I was running out of ways to write about how terrible this song is.

6. MONEY MAKE ME COME (FEAT. EBONYLOVE)

Looking past that song title for a quick sec, I must say that Drumma Boy’s instrumental on here is a fucking banger. It runs at a slightly slower pace than its trap-rap peers, likely to match the tempo of our host, but in doing so, the dramatic intensity is ramped up significantly. So good job, sir. Now, back to that abhorrent song title: sure, “Money Make Me Come” could have been far more interesting if Officer Willy was admitting on wax that he climaxes every single time he opens his wallet and a cartoonish fly doesn’t flutter out. But no, the only orgasms had on here come from alleged golddiggers, represented on here by guest star EbonyLove. Sigh. I really did like the beat, though: now that I’m overthinking shit, not unlike how I rewrote that ejaculation joke four times and I’m still not entirely happy with it, the music on here kind of reminded me of Pusha T’s “Millions”, a track which, coincidentally, also featured our host in a supporting role.

7. INTERLUDE (FEAT. DJ KHALED)

“Rick Ross represents the streets.” From his boat, Khaled? The fuck are you even talking about right now? Do you really believe that Ricky ever willingly sets foot in those fucking streets today? This would have made more sense had the guest just shouted a bunch of his random catchphrases.

8. THIS IS THE LIFE (FEAT. TREY SONGZ)

On which Officer Willy simultaneously boasts about and celebrates a lavish lifestyle that he couldn’t have possibly been enjoying at this point in his career. Rappers don’t make that much money off of just one album, not without live shows and/or extracurricular activities (*cough* corrections officer *cough*), and when was the last time you heard about an MMG world tour? Did he own a bunch of Wingstop locations back in 2008? Anyway, the instrumental, credited to both J-New and Blac Elvis, is suitably pleasant, while guest crooner Trey Songz lends our host a lazy-as-fuck hook that Ricky may as well have sung himself. At least Willy commits to the bit on here.

9. THIS ME

If this song had been released in 2018, it most certainly would have been titled “It Me”. DJ Toomp’s instrumental is appropriately anthemic, and even oddly inspirational: it’ll make for some good documentary end credit music someday. And to his credit, Rozay sounds just fine with his boasts-n-bullshit, which, even though they hardly discover any new territory, mesh with the beat quite well. Aside from the generally catchy “The Boss”, “This Me” is the best track on Trilla thus far. It was kind of lazy for our host to straight-up jack Jay-Z’s “chain reaction” like from Jermaine Dupri’s “Money Ain’t A Thing”, but he wasn’t the first to do so, and he won’t be the last.

10. HERE I AM (FEAT. NELLY & AVERY STORM)

Drumma Boy’s other production contribution of the evening is the third single from the project, “Here I Am”, on which Officer Ricky and guest star Nelly both pitch whatever they consider to be “woo” to various ladies within their respective eyelines. I vaguely remembered this track’s existence after hearing crooner Avery Storm’s harmonization of the word “lover”, which I’ve always found to be hilarious, but this song isn’t a joke: it’s just corny as fuck. Admittedly, it’s a little unsettling to hear Cornell rhyming about hooking up with someone in the wake of the now multiple rape accusations levied against him, and yet I was still more skeeved out by the idea of our host getting with a college-age student. Whatever, this was bad, and if you like this shit, you’re also bad, and you have terrible taste.

11. MAYBACH MUSIC (FEAT. JAY-Z)

Ground zero for the “Maybach Music” sound bite that announces Rick Ross and nearly every MMG artist on songs to this day, this J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League-produced Officer Rozay theme song features his label boss and friend Shawn Carter, who holds the distinction of being the dude who actually signed our host to Def Jam, which I guess counts for something. The beat is smooth, inoffensive, and quite dull: this is adult contemporary hip hop that your parents listen to in the car when they’re dropping you off at karate practice. Hova seems bored during his contractually-obligated contribution: hell, Jessica Gomes, the Australian model who lent the track its title and eventual sound bite, seems to be more committed to her line than Jay does with what he tries to convince himself is the “realest shit [he] ever wrote”. Our host’s verses show much more conviction, but that’s only relatively speaking, as this song isn’t very good, and yet it spawned a fucking industry. But hey, origin story though!

12. BILLIONAIRE

My favorite J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League beat of the evening can apparently be found on “Billionaire”, and it helps me finally understand why rap nerds online seem to believe that Rick Ross should help Nas select his future musical backing. The instrumental here is flames, is what I’m saying. It’s smooth as all hell. Our host’s boasts-n-bullshit are somewhat less successful, but he fits well with the beat, and even manages a funny line or two throughout. A nice late-game surprise that is likely on many a Rick Ross playlist, I’d bet.

13. LUXURY TAX (FEAT. LIL WAYNE, TRICK DADDY, & YOUNG JEEZY)

Features an all-star cast alongside our host’s labelmate Trick Daddy, who was nowhere near his career peak in 2008, when “Luxury Tax” was recorded. (I understand he was a late substitute for original guest star Puff Daddy, chosen merely because he was still on friendly terms with our host at the time, which means he was probably just hanging out in the studio that day.) The J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League instrumental reverts back to easy-listening rap, the seat filler of hip hop, helping the audience look full for the television cameras but serving very little purpose otherwise. Weezy sounds lazy as shit: there’s little sign of life in his performance, so clearly he phoned this one in. Young Jeezy fares better, as does Trick Daddy Dollars, taking advantage of this huge opportunity by not sounding like an amateur. Officer Rick Ross also appears.

14. REPPIN’ MY CITY (FEAT. TRIPLE C’S & BRISCO)

The hook is horribly simplistic, but “Reppin’ My City” was otherwise pretty catchy, as Rozay reconnects with his Triple C’s brethren Gunplay and Torch, along with guest star Brisco, one of Lil Wayne’s (former?) protégées who also appeared on Port Of Miami, over a fast-paced J Rock instrumental that would sound pretty good played through the speakers in the vehicle of your choosing. I’m not used to hearing guest Gunplay not have a gruff, 2Pac-esque demeanor, so his contribution sounded very weird to me, but everyone ultimately did alright on this enjoyable-enough track that isn’t offensive enough to hate. High praise, I know.

15. I’M ONLY HUMAN

Just as I had expected (and hoped) (and dreamed): “I’m Only Human” indeed takes its inspiration (and its hook) from The Human League’s “Human”, a song that now only reminds me of car insurance commercials. Ross uses the shitty DJ Nasty & LVM beat (one that would have been better had they just embraced the source material) to describe his rough childhood, which he uses to justify his later actions in life. I’ll give our host credit: most rappers wouldn’t cop to having any sort of gastrointestinal distress after drinking chocolate milk, and the way Ross handles the overall subject matter does effectively illustrate how inattentive his absentee father was. But the rest of this shit (no pun intended) is standard-issue “I didn’t have much growing up, so now I plan on overcompensating like a motherfucker” territory. Groan.

The iTunes version of Trilla contains a bonus track exclusive to Apple customers. I’ve never listened to it, and I don’t care enough to track it down, so you two can talk about it below if you want.

THE LAST WORD: I mean, listen: a lot of Trilla consists of filler that never should have made it out of the studio, but that isn’t how hip hop works now. Rick Ross is not a guy that anyone would categorize as a “good” rapper: he has a very specific lane, and he rarely strays from it, which puts him right in line with many other rappers who sound out of place when they venture into foreign territory (read: love raps, social consciousness, politics, etc.). He’s never struck me as a rapper that considers himself to be an artist with Something Important To Say: he’s merely a guy who loves the life he claims to be living, and as the first rule of writing is to write about what you know, that’s how we ended up with Trilla. And to be honest, I didn’t hate it. There are some terrible songs, absolutely: generic street tales and awkward “flirtation” are dominant themes throughout, and I’m simply not the target audience for that kind of shit. But as of this writing, Willy has been popular within our chosen genre for over a fucking decade, which is difficult for anyone to pull off, and that’s because he knows what he’s doing, both with his beat selection (as mentioned above, I found several of the instrumentals to be fucking fire) and with his almost-hilariously-confident words, some of which can be assembled into some catchy-ass songs that one wouldn’t complain so much about if you’re in the right environment. This kind of music has its place, and it’s not playing in the background while you sit there writing your thesis or cleaning your bathtub: it’s there to enhance whatever fun time you may be having in a club or party-like setting. In short, Trilla isn’t bad. It’s not good, I'd never recommend anyone ever purchase it, and I’ll likely never listen to this in its entirety ever again. But there are a handful of tracks that will migrate over to a driving playlist, just waiting for the right moment to be played. This is the type of project Spotify is perfect for. Well played, Rozay.

-Max

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