The H Mixtape is the product of some some studio collaboration between Birdman and Rick Ross a couple years back.
The mixtape starts off with a string orchestratration intro, and Birdman giving a spoken preview to the music contained within, talking about the mentality of a couple of the flashiest excess-fueled rappers this side of Miami beach. H apparently stands for hustle, although it’s hard for me to envision either of these portly rappers breaking into anything faster than a brisk walk. The first rapped verse of the album goes to Rick Ross, and Birdman brings one of his signature hooks to “Flashy cars” amid the typical DJ intros and shout-outs.
“Betty Stout” touts a seventies-esque soul sample beat, shifted into a squeaky-high pitch. Ross starts things off again and lays down another bloated verse about excess and luxury, while Birdman raps another hook on the same tiresome topics. Next up, “Pop That Pussy” is a pretty standard club banger joint, with Birdman and Rozay tag teaming a couple of verses with an explicitly instructive hook that gives the track it’s ever-thoughtful title. Banking on the same formula that gave life to the “Betty Soul” beat, “Why” features both rappers on the topic of luxury, and flashy lifestyles.
“Sun Come Up” is a pretty typical yacht-rock infused Miami rap track. The rappers and a pitch-corrected R&B singer remind listeners that they do their big money lifestyle not just Sunday, not just Monday, not just Tuesday, not just Wednesday, not just Thursday, not just Friday, but also Saturdaaayyy. That’s seven days! Out of seven!
Next came a song so glossy and lacking substance it didn’t even register in my mind as an actual track. And that’s about the time I fully checked out, without a single regret, because right on cue, the remaining songs offered little more than B-roll trap beats, inane lyrics and meaningless phoned-in features. In case you just have to know, those tracks are called “Addicted,” “Money to Make,” and “Justice”
This mixtape was recorded back in 2008, and apparently Birdman and Rick Ross felt so compelled to remind the world of their absurd lifestyles between albums, that they decided it was necessary to put out some stale material full of faux-swagger and braggadocio. Mercifully, it was a short mixtape, and if it weren’t a free download, there’s no way I could personally recommend this compilation. It’s not the worst mixtape I’ve ever heard, mainly because it’s all authorized material with a fairly slick production aesthetic. However, with no substance to speak of, the polished exterior doesn’t keep this luxe-rap compilation from tripping over its pendulous belly.
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