YoungBoy Never Broke Again

On tracks “Valuable Pain”, “Cross Me”, and “Survivor”, tender melodies and moments prevail, this melancholic content underscored by big boosts of bass. 2Pac’s ballad “Dear Mama” comes to mind – and even if Youngboy Never Broke Again shares little in common with Shakur’s voice and flow, the introspective spirit is intact, and the gift for oration showcased by the Baton Rouge rapper puts him in good company. Like contemporaries Kodak Black and Lil Boosie, YoungBoy is an ambassador for the lifestyle, and unafraid to be vulnerable on a track, in order to teach us folks in the suburbs the meaning of dealing with pain in the streets.

Within a single track, the vibe can bounce between love connection sentiments and payback promises, lending a schizophrenic quality to the whole album. Society on a whole may recognize that a man like this could use some therapy sessions, lest his unresolved abandonment issues boil over into a real bad day for any rival on the receiving end of YoungBoy Never Broke Again’s Beretta. On “Slime Belief”, he encapsulates all of this, rapping “when you left, I ain’t wanna live life / now I'm happy on the in and outside / can you make it better, trap out like Griselda.” He claims that when a personal relationship dies, he can always hustle like drug boss Griselda Blanco in order to boost his endorphins, even amidst the trials of the drug game.

In a non-standard way, “Cross Me” becomes a lament about disloyalty, as Youngboy Never Broke Again takes shots at his enemies on top of a beat and melody that sounds so much more like a break-up song. This illustrates the bonds that are broken all the time – and in moments where the rapper prefers to sing the hooks, it is all that much more personal. The classic beats on some of the tracks sell the sense of loss and regret, especially on the old shool “Play Wit Us”, the Bay Area slap of “Big Talk”, and the New Orleans bounce of “.38 heights”.