The new Snoop & Dre album is…great?!? - “Missionary” analysis

When I listen to an album for the first time, I'm usually at the gym on an elliptical, watching a movie on mute at the same time—something on Pluto TV. And sometimes there are weird sorts of connections that provide a through line for a review. Such is the case for my review of the album *Missionary* by Snoop Dogg, as I talk about the 1981 cinematic movie *For Your Eyes Only*, the James Bond film starring Roger Moore. The thing about this album, *For Your Eyes Only*, is that I remember enjoying it a lot when I was a kid.

But as I was watching it this time, you know, these questions sort of popped up. Like, what's going on here? Why are we watching this old man be a young spy? Why are we watching this guy who's 53 years old? That's how old Roger Moore was when he made that movie.

And he's hanging around all these 20-year-old supermodels who are throwing themselves at him. He doesn't even look like, you know, a handsome older guy. I mean, he is, but he looks more like a grandfatherly librarian, just kind of walking around the whole movie. As I was watching this, I thought, why did I like this movie so much as a kid? There must have been some kind of reason.

And there's another thing that I used to think when I was younger, much younger. I had a criteria for what would make a good movie. This was before I studied the art of cinema. I said there are two things that can make a good movie, and number one is helicopters at sunrise.

If a movie has that scene where the sun is coming up—not just in "Apocalypse Now," but in any movie—you can have a cityscape or anything, and there's a helicopter involved. That sunrise really makes a movie good. However, the number one thing that guarantees an automatic thumbs-up for me is cricket dudes with machine guns on skis. For me, that will forgive anything in a film! If it has that, some kind of chase, I don't know why, but I think that's just the best thing. At least, I used to think it was the best thing. That's what made "For Your Eyes Only," starring Roger Moore from 1981, a great movie. Because there's a beautiful scene in it. And sure, the gadgets are a little less fantastic, but…

The car is messed up. I think it's a Lotus. I don't even think it's an Aston Martin. But it's still Bond. It's still the thing that you come to expect.

It's still got the gadgets. It's still got dudes on skis with machine guns. And Snoop Dogg is in "Missionary." Snoop Dogg, who is, and this is true, 53 years old. Coincidentally, coincidentally, the same age as Roger Moore in that movie. This album is, you know, a little rote, a little by the numbers at times, but it's got guys on skis with machine guns. And by that, I mean it has Dr. Dre production and Snoop Dogg rapping.

And it doesn't matter how old they are; it doesn't matter what they sound like, what products they're hawking, or how many zeros they have after their net worth. A bad Snoop and Dre album is still a Snoop and Dre album. This is the first part of the actual analysis and review that I will give you. This is more than just dudes on skis with machine guns. This is more than just a fine Snoop and Dre album.

It's good. It's not bad. It's not a bad album. It's not a bad album, but it has these two elements. Okay, it has two songs that are absolute horse hockey—just the worst stuff you've ever heard.

Just unforgivable. Okay, the two songs that most people are going to skip to are the two worst songs on the album. The third worst song on the album is the other song people are going to skip to. But in between those absolute travesties of music nightmares, which will probably be the only thing this album will be remembered for, because the world is a weird place, it is actually quite a good album.

So, thank you for auditing the always positive new music review show hosted by a French professor. When I watch a lot of these Bond movies on mute, whether it's late-stage Sean Connery, late-stage Roger Moore, or any stage of Daniel Craig, part of the whole Bond mythos is: do these guys care at all about what they're doing? So much of the role is just kind of moping around and seeming stoic and hard. Does Roger Moore care in "For Your Eyes Only"? Is he in this for the paycheck, or is he in this for the love of the character? It's interesting because the last rap album I reviewed was Alchemist and Roc Marciano, and I kind of made a joke at the beginning, pretending like I was going to talk about Dre and Snoop. Here we have absolute legends of the game who shifted the culture, who innovated, and who persist. But the difference, I think, is that when you listen to Roc Marciano and the Alchemist, you know that they live and breathe everything: rap, music, and hip-hop.

That's what they do. That is their passion. They absolutely care, and they totally, totally, totally care about what they're doing. One of the issues with Dr. Dre and Snoop is whether they care. Is this something they are truly passionate about?

I had to just pause because my daughter was in the foyer. I'm getting ready to go to school. So that's the real question: how much do they care? I think one could almost even ask, how much did they care? I mean, that's one of the tricky things about Dr. Dre.

I read an article in a magazine a long time ago that discussed how Dr. Dre doesn't do much hands-on production. Instead, he often relies on others, like Mel-Man or Scott Storch, to handle it for him. Of course, Dre is an absolute legend and one of the top five most important producers in the history of rap music. But I wonder, how much does he care? How invested is he? Is he now just a spokesperson and a businessman?

And that's what I want to talk about for a second. It’s sort of this weird, yet predictable development from the beginning until now. Like how Snoop Dogg, who I often try to explain to my students, was considered the most dangerous man in America. That was how I thought of him. I remember seeing him and feeling actual fear, thinking, "Oh my God, they let a real killer into the mainstream."

Jesus Christ, they can't possibly do this. This guy is the face of fear. And now, obviously, he's just a big, funny, cuddly joke, right? So I'll take you through some history, okay? This album, "The Chronic," by... right?

So I'll take you through some history, okay? This album, "The Chronic" by Dr. Dre, I did not buy when it came out. The thing about gangster rap is that it's often for jocks. You know, when you live in the suburbs, this was the album that, you know, Fubba and Dougie listened to. I didn't want to be like those guys, so I did not listen to "The Chronic."

I sort of was aware of it. I knew I liked Dr. Dre, but I just kind of skipped it. That's actually the same reason why I didn't mess with Biggie when he came out initially, you know? I mean, I came back to him, obviously. But, like, it sounded so much like this.

It just kind of felt like music for Fubba. You know, I don't want to listen to Fubba music. But to give you an idea of how powerful Snoop Dogg was, I did buy this when it came out. I bought "Doggy Style" probably the day after I first heard "What's My Name" on MTV. Okay?

I heard "Bow Wow Wow, Yippee Oh, Yippee A," the George Clinton "Atomic Dog" sample. I didn't know it was a sample. I didn't know. Oh, sorry. I didn't know any of that stuff, and I absolutely just needed it immediately. And sure, all that same stuff that was true about "The Chronic" was true about this.

It was kind of for jocks or whatever, but it was just way, way, way too strong. That's the image that you really need to have in your head. That was the man I still see when I think of Snoop Dogg. Okay?

That is just one of the hardest, most menacing people who always manages... I forgot about all the questionable cartoons in here. They always manage to be so light and fluffy while at the same time... you know what? I do. I'm going to flip this image just so that I remember. His career is interesting. I should be able to hold up "The Dogfather" right here. I own that CD; I bought it the day it came out. But I have a secondary CD collection in the garage of albums that I'm never going to listen to. I could give you a review of "The Dogfather." Two words: dog shit. I can't say that. Where did they print that?

Okay? It was just horrible. It was absolutely not listenable. I really didn't like it. At that point, I kind of tuned out of Snoop. You know, I was in college, and I don't know, he went to No Limit.

And I barely understood Cash Money. I definitely did not understand No Limit. I remember buying a Master P album and just being like, I don't get this. I don't know what's happening. So, the last album that I bought by Snoop Dogg was this.

And this should have told me something. This should have taught me something. At this point, I had basically given up on Snoop as somebody that I really loved. But this album was maybe the most listened-to album the year it came out. I mean, this has got Stacey Adams, you know? Like, it's got... Every time I eat a pistachio, I say it like Snoop Dogg because I keep it crackin' like pistachios.

And then I try not to finish the rest of the line as we stomp and mash these hoes. You know, like this album—this is actually better than "Doggystyle." There aren't as many hits on here, but as far as just a rap album with production and everything, I think there are a lot more misses on "Doggystyle." So, over time, I'd sort of watch him become a kind of cartoon character. I was amazed by "Chronic 2001."

The smartest thing about this is how it showcases the genius of Dr. Dre. He released an album called "Chronic 2001," ensuring its relevance when you listened to it in 2001, because that's the title of the album. He released it in 1999, giving himself three years of relevance just with the title. Of course, he filled it with absolute bangers, featuring Eminem and Snoop Dogg.

And over time, I just watched this guy become a cartoon. I watched him become famous as an entrepreneur and a businessman. Whatever it was that made the music just got smaller and smaller. This is a great book on gangsta rap by Ben Westhoff, titled "Original Gangsters." It's all about the West Coast and how it started.

It's got a good narrative and well-researched history. I really recommend it. I love how he talks about Snoop in Chapter 14, "Apple Pie." He's ubiquitous.

Later, Snoop Dogg is shilling pistachios. How random! See, that's the thing: he went from rapping about smashing the hoes and keeping it crackin' like pistachios to actually being a pistachio salesman.

Justin Bieber is no longer obsessed with saying things like "fo' shizzle, my nizzle." These days, he speaks fluent corporate lingo. Snoop Inc. can help companies expand their brand's reach. He provides the context for this entire review of who Snoop Dogg is by including a reference to a photo shoot he did for Happy Socks. Did you see my little drawing of Snoop with a joint? It adds to the context of the discussion.

One of the sock brands that Snoop Dogg has supported. Okay? So I've seen him sort of become this cartoon character, and it's a weird thing. I talk about it a lot with Public Enemy as well.

It's just that the legacy of Public Enemy in the mainstream has been reduced to Flavor Flav being a clown, which is so offensive to me because they were an amazing voice for Black militants. They taught me, a suburban teenager, a lot about the Black Power movement, inequality, and all that. Now, if you mention Public Enemy to anyone, they just laugh about Flavor Flav being a big old goofball. That, in and of itself, is a strange sort of white supremacist and racist flip where they're reducing something significant. I don't like laughing about Flavor Flav, and it's kind of a similar situation with Snoop Dogg. I mean, he was legitimately on trial for murder.

He legitimately was, and we all knew it. It was like, you know, there he is doing commercials with Martha Stewart, who says "faux shizzle," and he corrects her. We talked about this, but maybe he should be the one corrected. He’s someone who, over time, has managed to make weed his personality, which is a completely boring thing for me. I can’t stand it when people make weed their entire identity. It’s something you consume, okay? I talk about it all the time.

If you want to be the Whopper guy and you want to eat Whoppers from Burger King every single day—like multiple times a day, every day for the rest of your life—go for it. But if you make it like, "Hey, have it your way," that's my personality. It's just not that interesting to me. In the early days, he did St. Ives commercials, which is a malt liquor that was very popular and seen as part of the poisonous food of the American ghetto.

He did St. Ides commercials. Now he does Corona commercials with Andy Samberg on the beach. The same basic idea. If I could boil down my disappointment with Snoop Dogg into one lyric, it would be the following lyric from a Pepsi Max commercial.

I am up to my knees in zero calories. Dude, you made "doggy style." You're saying I'm up to my knees in zero calories, but I'm going somewhere with this. I'm not just going to trash on him the whole time, right? I think it's interesting that he re-bought Death Row. You know, Death Row Records. This album is produced by Death Row and Aftermath, which is a very confusing thing to see on the same album cover. It's like, wait, Death Row and Aftermath? Because Aftermath was created in reaction to Death Row. I like how he's turning this symbol of LA gangster culture into sort of a boutique brand. If you haven't seen Rap Latte, they are a new-ish YouTube channel with very well-researched and long-standing experts in hip-hop journalism.

So the YouTube channel is new, but the expertise is not. They have a whole section about Snoop Dogg and his public perception, which I really suggest. I'll put that in the description. It's right there. And, you know, it's the same thing, to a lesser degree, with Dr. Dre.

So then the question is, you know, do they care anymore? Do either of them care anymore? Are they going to be able to make music that's good? As I've said, yes, they can. And it's kind of hard figuring out why.

Why would they do this? Now, I did a little bit of research. I don't usually watch interviews, but I had a little extra time, so I watched the interview that Snoop did with Bootleg Kev. Despite his odious sponsorships, I do not gamble on sports under any circumstances. Online gambling is class warfare.

And if you're gambling, you're losing. Don't do it anymore, okay? You can't win big, alright?

If you want to be like Drake, alone in front of a swimming pool with an absolute dead hole where there should be a soul, gamble. Take that money and invest in yourself. Use that money to buy your friend a video game. Seriously, do you have a friend? Just blow his mind.

"Like, dude, here's a Steam card. What? I was going to gamble on a football game, but I decided to take that money and invest it in our friendship. I figured, you know, you've always wanted to play this game, so I'm going to get you that game. Okay?"

And you know, when I watched this interview with Bootleg Kev, it's interesting because he kept saying how music comes first. He repeated "music first," but it's hard to believe it. Then he would slip right into a whole discussion about how he was competing with Shaq. In his mind, he's not competing with other rappers to be the best rapper; he's competing with Shaq.

He's talking about being in the crypto space. Ugh. Snoop. Ugh. But what I like, though, is that at the same time, he talks about being a grandfather and his pride in being a grandfather. He just says that he's two people.

And I get the sense that he's two people because that's how I felt about his early albums, you know? Here, it’s just like he's the musician and he's the spokesman— that’s who he is. He says that music comes first and that his business side is second, but I think that’s wishful thinking. I believe he is now a businessman first and a spokesman first.

But then we get to this album, and I have to say a lot of great things about it. First of all, is this the best sounding rap album of all time? I'm not saying—uh, I'm not saying it sounds better than "Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)," right?

It doesn't sound better than Chronic, whatever. But, in terms of production and cleanliness, that's what I mean. The cleanliness of this production is unreal. I don't even think pop albums sound this polished. It is the most polished thing.

Like, I had it in my headphones. I'm like, what is going on? Why is this so clean? It's like an extra level of clean. You remember in "Rick and Morty" when Rick makes totally flat ground—like perfectly level ground—and everyone's like, "Yeah, what? How could this possibly mean anything?" Then, you stand on perfectly level ground for the first time in your life and you're totally transfixed. This album has that kind of invisible layer of sheen. It's also way more worked than I thought it would be; it's wild. There's a lot happening in this album. Now, Dr. Dre has often re-recorded samples.

I guess that's almost like a West Coast thing at this point, you know? Because that’s what must be. Or does as well, you know? Like, it’s really well made and interesting. And then there are all of these beat changes. There are way more beat changes than you would think there would be on an album made by a billionaire and a hundred millionaire just putting out an album because, I don’t know, they want to sell more gin or something, okay? In watching the Bootleg Kev interview, he explained that he had all these songs, and some of them were in the out-of-luck pile while some were going to be on the album. They would basically harvest, or scavenge for scraps from the out-of-luck pile and incorporate those elements into the finished songs, which gives it this cool, modular, very full feeling. Now, much like all of the great Dr. Dre and Snoop collaborations, you know, it is an object of study, but lyrically, it’s more of a vibe.

You know, it's more of just a feeling. The way they rhyme and the way they rap is still very old school. I'll explain what I mean by that. The title, "Missionary," and the cover, which is a picture of a condom—thankfully, this album is not a sex album.

I really thought this was going to be a “gasm” situation where it was just older dudes talking about sex and saying, “Okay, I didn’t want it 20 years ago. I don’t want it now." And before you ask, I won't want it 20 years from now. I don’t want the 73-year-old sex album. Thankfully, it’s not about condoms. It’s not about sex.

It's not a continuation of that skit. You know the skit. Oh, maybe you didn't grow up with CDs or vinyl or tapes or whatever. There's a skit on here that's just about sex. This man, the '90s were a weird time.

But thankfully, you know, that's not what it is. It's missionary. And I figured this out way too late. I was like, "Oh, missionary, doggy stuff. Oh, it's a different sex position. That's what it is."

So anyway, I'm sure "Cowbell" or, I mean, "Cowgirl" or "Rusty Trombone," those albums are coming out in 20 years. Who knows what. But I like it because, in a way, it's funny because it calls to mind "missionary," which is usually shorthand for plain. It's kind of a funny thing, but it's great. And they made a short film.

It's a goofy but fun short film. It's mostly about product placement. If you like what you see, smash like, bucket, and subscribe. A-V-A-A means "awesome video as always." And I'm now going to give you a stamp.

If you don't believe me that this album is good because you've only heard the two or three songs that aren't strong, listen to the song "Pressure" featuring K.A.A.N. It has atmospheric sounds and a low rolling bass: boop, boop, boop, boop, boop, boop, boop, boop, boop, boop. Ah, and the great kind of old, pre-gangsta-sounding keyboards that resemble some of the stuff you hear on GNX. The sample itself is from a Blaxploitation film.

Weirdly enough, I listened to this album twice at the gym. The first time, it was "For Your Eyes Only," the James Bond movie. The second time, it was "Scream, Blacula, Scream" from 1973. Good Lord, that was a good one. That's a great movie! Man, I've never seen a single Blacula movie.

I'm going to correct that. And that's the thing: Snoop is obsessed with blaxploitation movies. It's all over his first album, and in general, he's a big fan of that era and that time. That's part of what makes him so great; even when he was young, he was kind of old. He was bringing stuff from the '70s to the kids of the '90s.

And he's still doing that because of this crazy sample—boop, boop, boop, boop, boop, boop, boop, boop, boop—from a different Pam Grier film called "Friday Foster." This is the face of a guy who's going to learn a lot more about Blaxploitation in the next couple of years. I haven’t paid enough attention to that genre; there’s a lot of great stuff there. And you know, Snoop is just doing his whole Slick Rick thing.

I would hold up my copy of Slick Rick, but I don't know where it is. Did you take it? You took it, dude; not cool. Just listen, just put it back in the CD drawer, and I won't even say anything. I'll just think, "Oh, I lost it," okay? But please give me back my copy of *The Adventures of Slick Rick*. What I love is that, again, not only was Snoop bringing the '70s back to the '90s, but he was also bringing the '80s back to the '90s with his incessant love and support of, and covers of, Slick Rick. Slick Rick is an amazing character because he was in jail for a long time and he is one of the greatest storytellers, if not the greatest storyteller, in rap history.

And his whole style, his whole shtick, his whole cool but menacing persona—really, Snoop is just the next Slick Rick. He has been the next Slick Rick for 30 years. For 30 years, he has embraced that identity and never shies away from it. When you're a Slick Rick fan and you hear him say, "Always sleep with one eye open; Snoop Dogg the Ruler," you know he's referencing Slick Rick with the eye patch. Additionally, anytime he mentions "the Ruler," he's referring to Slick Rick the Ruler. He even quotes it: "Dre, dope man cooking that dope; he was serving that bass, I was selling that coke." It's a beautiful connection to rap history while simultaneously bringing the 70s and the 80s to a rapper who originally brought those influences to the 90s. Now, they're bringing them to the 2020s by releasing an album that is just way better than it needs to be: "Lifting up my leg just to piss on your dreams."

Still with the dog metaphors, gotta appreciate it. It's a cool kind of West Coast style singing in the chorus. You know, it's sort of Nate Dogg-ish, sort of Pharrell-y. I guess it's K-A-N. And it's just a great Snoop song. If I had to make a Snoop Dogg mixtape, this would be on there, okay? A Snoop Dogg mixtape would be a great mixtape because he has a lot of fantastic songs.

We stay on point like Stacey Adams. This is my main problem with Dre and Snoop. It's like, what happened to all these guys, you know? What happened to RBX? I know, I know, I looked it up. They’re still around.

But, like, RBX and Hitman, you think that this is the album that Snoop is on the most. No, RBX is the number one guy on here. Hitman is the number one guy on here. Cocaine is the singer on this album. Like, what's happening to these guys?

I don't know. You tell me in the comments if you want. That's probably the kind of thing I would do if I had more time. The rest of the album starts off with the track "Foreplay," where, thank God, it's not just a sex skit. It's very epic.

It's kind of setting up the same way as "Chronic 2001." There's even maybe a little tone of that THX beginning here. Nice high singing from BJ the Chicago Kid. Snoop's not even on here. Snoop Dogg makes the world go round.

That's a silly line, but thank God it's not about sex. It leads into "Shangri-La." Okay, this confused the hell out of me. First of all, you are about to witness the strength of street knowledge. Nope.

Dre? Dre? Dre? I know you said that first, and I know you produced the N.W.A album, but you can't say the beginning of "Straight Outta Compton" in the middle of your 2024 thing. Anyway, that's fine.

And then the beat comes in. Now listen, if you look this up on WhoSampled.com, it will say that this is a sample of "Swahili Land" by Ahmad Jamal. No, it's not. It's not. I mean, it is, but it's not.

Because some songs are kind of like Tarantino. Tarantino intentionally takes a song and puts it in a movie in such a way that no one can possibly use that song in a movie without thinking of his scene, right? For example, "Stuck in the Middle with You" by Stealers Wheel—if you've ever seen *Reservoir Dogs*, you can never hear it outside of that scene, right? The same goes for "Jungle Boogie," right?

Just all these different things, right? When a rap producer samples a song in an iconic way, they kind of take that song. And if you're sampling that song too, you're not sampling the original; you're sampling the sample. This is "Stakes Is High," the J Dilla song that I didn't know was by J Dilla because I didn't know who J Dilla was when this album came out by De La Soul.

But this was really confusing to me because at the time I was listening to this, I was kind of having a little identity crisis, wondering, "What kind of rap do I like?" In the end, of course, I do like it. Do you ever want to know what that little green thing meant? That's what happens when you get divorced. People go around with stickers and say, "Green is me, and I don't know, blue is you," or whatever it is. So if you're ever wondering why there's some green stickers on my stuff, I got these in the divorce.

Maybe she ended up with my Slick Rick. That would suck. So yeah, it's a bizarre thing to do for hip-hop heads. I do think this album is partly for hip-hop heads; when you hear this song, you just think, "Why are they sampling De La Soul? Why are they sampling a J Dilla song by De La Soul?" But it's just so well-produced, so clean. I always thought his name was Brodeus, but it turns out I've been reading his name wrong.

It's Brodus. Calvin Brodus. I've been saying "Brodeus" since 1993. For 31 years, I've been mispronouncing this man's government name. To win is a necessity.

You know my specialty. I'm cooking up the recipe. Don't question me. S-N-double-O-P; my name is equity. Never check for me unless you have to check for me. Pay me respectfully, especially.

Melodies mixed with felonies, you know I got my legacy. Beautiful verse, quiet, simple; you know it's just how he does it. He talks about what's cool about him. He spells his name a couple of different ways. He might throw in the words "trouble" or "bubble," tying into the word "double," you know, and "recipe," "necessity," and "equity."

His name is Equity, and that's, I think, the truth. This is that, and that's, I think, the truth. This represents the two sides of Snoop, the balance that he's looking for here. Like, this is a good line; this is a good rap song, and that's a good line as well. Also, it's a sad truth that he has basically turned himself into a commodity.

And then, at the end, there's sort of a "Dear God, thank God they didn't follow this." It's a warning for anybody who's easily triggered. Okay? This album is not politically correct. God. This album is not politically correct. God.

This album is not offensive. To its credit, it's not trying to be offensive. It's not like that Eminem album where it's, "I'm gonna shock you. You can't cancel me. I'm uncancellable."

Cancel me. You know? You know that comedian? Who's that comedian who does all the '90s songs? You can tell me in the comments.

I forget the guy's name. He's very funny. "Outta Da Blue" featuring Alice has this really cool kind of vocalizing with a unique stutter step on a cowbell. Again, he’s in the conversation about hip-hop history. It's the Schoolly D cowbell from Saturday Night Live.

If you listen to Schooly D and get past "PSK" and "Looking at My Gucci," by the way, I asked my wife to get me a vintage Gucci watch for Christmas. I don't know if she's going to. They're not that expensive, but I want to be able to look at that Gucci, and it's about that time.

But I think she thought I was joking even though I actually sent her a link to an auction on eBay. So we'll see. Tune in December 26th to see if I got my Gucci. This is the kind of weird maximalism that's in this album because it's also mixed in with this unusual sampling sound, which comes from musicians who are developmentally disabled. It’s very interesting outsider music, and the song is called "Watermelon Fantasy," which is where the sample originates. Later, it also samples M.I.A. with "All I Wanna," "Bing, Bing," and all that stuff.

There's so much going on in these beats, better than it has to be. These songs—"King Kong," "My Team Strong," "Godzilla"—set fire to whatever I breathe on. I've got the killers in the choir, my theme song. I could never do this alone. That song comes on, and I just love it.

It's got all this whole energy. He talks about being a coach in Compton and Snoop Dogg, of all things, right? However much I kind of make fun of him for, you know, I'm up to my knees—I can't even say it—I'm up to my knees in zero calories. He does the whole football coaching thing, and he does seem to understand the importance of mentorship, organized sports, looking out for people, and giving back to the community. It just seems all real to me, so that's really awesome.

The next song is called "Hard Knocks." It starts off pretty epic, and then it kind of cuts off. It's somewhat of a party song, featuring a verse about his hits, where he talks about something I don't like about older rappers: they often just name-check their previous works and their past hits. This song is kind of like that; he references tracks like "Deep Cover," "Murder Was the Case," and "Jitty Juice," going through lines that we know him from. But that's okay; it's fine. The thing is, Snoop Dogg is one of the greatest to ever do it, even if he’s never been considered the best in terms of lyricism. His voice, charisma, and presence carry the fact that he's not a particularly good rhyme writer. I assume he has people helping him with his lyrics, but I don’t think that’s a problem. When you’re gifted with such a unique voice, charisma, and the ability to deliver like he does, you don’t need anything else to still be one of the greatest. There is a weird moment when I notice a Pink Floyd CD in here, and they throw in "Leave Those Kids Alone," a strange reference from "The Wall." I don’t quite get why it's included, but there is a cool bridge in the song that speaks more about his path.

Another hard beat change occurs in the Mexican song "Alma y Vida." There's a lot of Mexican influence on this album, which I appreciate; I like that about GNX. I truly believe that the more West Coast rap pays homage to and collaborates with Chicano culture, Hispanic culture, and Latino culture, the better West Coast rap will become. It will continue to dominate and be a positive force in America. What the witness heard, along with the Funkadelic style of singing, made me wish that cocaine was back. Those of you who love that will understand.

And, you know, it's the wild thing where he really did almost go to jail. The way he describes it, after he got acquitted, he just said, "Alright, I'm just not going to be a gangster anymore." That's pretty admirable, you know? That's actually a really good thing to do. Just to be like, "Wow, I came from terrible circumstances, I was part of a terrible thing, so I'm going to do other stuff now." Man, I haven't really come around to Snoop Dogg before, but I think I love Snoop Dogg now.

I think I can forgive his pistachio flip. Gorgeous, featuring Jhené Aiko. This is sort of like a predictable Snoop and Dre-style beat with a predictable kind of hook sung by a female vocalist, but it rules—I can't help it; this song rules. Everything about it is paint-by-numbers, but the paint-by-numbers are made by masters. It's just great. Man, just look at how Snoop can deliver some such cringeworthy lyrics. How do you do it properly? When you're on my property, I'm a hot commodity. Boardwalk, Monopoly, safe—ran out of space.

I'm an Odyssey. Honestly, I'm that motherfucker you gotta see. He's pulling some minivan raps about Honda Odyssey. I'm a Sienna guy myself. I'm not a gang member, and I never would be a gang member.

But if anyone pulls up with an Odyssey, I might, you know, we might have a beef, because I'm just all about that Sienna life, you know? I had to do a check. He is not currently a spokesman for Honda. So then the next song is "Last Dance with Mary Jane." Oh, here’s what I wrote.

These are my notes. Right there. Oh, Jesus. I don't want this. Skip.

This is the worst thing it could possibly be. Holy cow, I don't want a cover of an already bad Tom Petty song. I love Tom Petty on many of his albums. I adore Tom Petty. "Last Dance with Mary Jane" sucks. It's a stupid song and it's poorly recorded.

It's just catchy, and I don't like it; I think it's stupid. This covers just as much about it. I don't care about people who smoke a lot of weed; it's not that interesting to me. It could have been interesting if it were much more conflicted, but it's not.

I don't think the jelly roll being on here is fascinating and interesting. It feels like a stupid cash grab, and it made me want to skip reviewing the album. So let's get to the next song. Thank you. It has a Neptune/Timbaland style beat, but it's mixed with a sample of Sly and the Family Stone's "Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)."

Hook after hook after hook after hook after hook. I'm going to make sure that my baby’s not awake. Hook after hook after hook after hook after I have to turn on the baby monitor. Throughout this album, there are just so many here.

Okay, she's awake, but is she making noise? She's just kind of mellow here. No, she's just kind of chilling there. So I'm going to wait until she starts making noise. You know, just, why not kiss the sky?

Yai yai, and it's great that Snoop knows how to do that. Snoop and Dre know how to make those kinds of West Coast bangers with these crazy hits. I like that there's a quote from the song "The Watcher," probably my favorite track off of *Chronic 2001*: "Things just ain't the same for gangsters." That's one of those lines that I just say all the time. Just, you know, I'm not a gangster, obviously, except when it comes to representing Sienas. You know, just like, "Things just ain't the same for gangsters," just the way he says it. It's funny that he said that 20 years ago. It's all about cleaning up for the TV screen. He keeps talking about how conscious he is. Then we get to "Stamp Pressure," and then we get to another part of me. Jesus, painful. SOS. Rock it, super weak.

I don't care; rock it super weak. I don't care. It's not cool or cute that he got Sting to do this with him. It's garbage, okay? It's garbage.

It's just garbage. "Message in a Bottle" is a fine song. I don't need to hear a rap version of it. It's not interesting. It's not unexpected or idiosyncratic.

It's just lazy and bad. It's filled with an album that's ambitious and good. Then we get to the next song, which rules: "Skyscrapers." Strong, again, Mexican trumpets.

Another Mexican sample: Marco Antonio. Then we get to the next song, which rules—Skyscrapers. Strong again, Mexican trumpets. Another Mexican sample.

Marco Antonio Muñiz. Shout out to Hussain for providing all those things. You know, it sounds even sort of like the way they're chopping up the samples. It sounds almost kind of Dilla-ish. Forget being lyrical.

I'm a walking miracle. I like this because it's like it's in conversation with Kendrick's album. You know, where he says the same thing. You know, forget a double entendre. It's that same kind of idea, except with Snoop.

He really means it. He's not joking; he's literally liming. He's literally rhyming "lyrical" and "miracle." The most hacky, but he's saying that he's not lyrical; he is a miracle. And then we get Smitty on here, who sounds just like Jay-Z, quoting a bunch of rap lyrics. And then Method Man.

I don't know why it took me until 2024 to realize that Method Man is the East Coast Snoop Dogg. But once I said that— and I'm sure other people have said it too, though I've never heard it before—everything just snapped into place. He loves weed and has charisma. I mean, of course he's a much better rapper. This is the best verse on the album.

I would put this up there with a "Verse of the Year" style of verse. Starting right off with John Wilkes in the booth—God damn, that's a hard line. This is Johnny Blaze, and that's Snoop, and that's Dr. Dre in the coupe. He got the cue.

I don’t bishop. I ain't no OJ in this juice. Another day, another pickup. I ain't playing any hoops with this inner circle; I figured I’d try and stay in the loop, stick to the script. This is a stick-up, but I'm gonna stick to the truth. I thought I was with a black fist up; I'm gonna stick to my roots. Just super fun Method Man references everywhere, double entendres everywhere.

It's great! Then we get to the next song, which you think is going to be a bad one: "Fire" featuring Coco Sarai. It has a rather silly skit of someone being set on fire. Eminem.

I don't like it. I don't like the sound of people getting killed. That isn't interesting to me. But then it becomes this reggae song that rules. The second time I listen to it, I really enjoy it.

I love how he starts off with, "How many of you can say you love your occupation?" I can say I love my occupation, and I love this hobby. Unlike other people with advanced degrees who talk about music, I genuinely enjoy discussing it. It turns out that this bridge is super cool and makes the rap work with reggae.

It's just great. It sounds perfect. This reggae sound works really well with Snoop. I'm really happy it's on here. "Guns N Smoke" is the next track, and it’s just great.

It just sounds perfect. Like this reggae sound works really well with Snoop. I'm really happy it's on here. "Guns and Smoke" is the next weak song on the album. It's not a skip; it's not terrible, but it's just, I don't know.

Okay, so we got the sample for "Dead Wrong." "Born Again" is my favorite Biggie album. Everyone gets mad at me when I say that, but it is. I think it's the most consistent album. It's got the least amount of stuff that I have to skip.

I just want the paper. It's interesting having Snoop sampling Biggie. You know, that's kind of intriguing, especially when Eminem was on that song for "Born Again," and Eminem's on here. But then 50 Cent comes on. You can't have Snoop, Dre, and 50 on the same track.

Those are three dudes who are more famous for being rich, despite their rap careers, rather than being great rappers. You know, it's just too much. I do like Snoop's verse, though. Again, the beat changes; it gets more high effort with his stuff.

I come from freestyling over gunshots and sirens; there's nothing more gangster than my voice over these violins. It's great. It's just a great line. Eminem just sounds bored. Unlike that syrup that they canceled, I'm going to say, "Forget you, Jemima," and then blame my rap persona. Just, dude, are you really making an anti-canceling Aunt Jemima lyric?

God, just move on, dude. Anyway, apparently this is a song for Fortnite. Snoop is gonna Snoop, okay? You thought you were sitting here in the middle of this great album, talking about how great Snoop is and how much you love him. It turns out Snoop's going to Snoop, and this song is going to be a tie-in for a video game.

Snoop. Sticky Situation. Second best song this year with the title "Sticky." Featuring Ka'an and Coco Sarai. This is not a sample from, how do you even say this?

How many? How long have I been listening to this album? Hype? Hyperbolic, syllabistic, sesquipedalianistic. Okay, it's not a sample from one of the best albums of all time—top five albums of all time—top three albums of all time—maybe the best album of all time, "Hot Buttered Soul" by Isaac Hayes. It's a sample from "Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos" by Public Enemy. Okay, because they sample the same part of this song.

When you listen to "Hyperbolic Systematicus Melodicious" in the middle of this song, a piano line comes on. If you grew up with Public Enemy and you hear that "ding ding," it’s the most exciting and the best sample pull you can possibly feel. So, they’re sampling Public Enemy here—maximal production.

I probably had your auntie on my tour bus. Out of nowhere, they throw in a quotation from "Tom's Diner" by Suzanne Vega. You know, do-do-do-do-do-do-do. Angrier sounds. Breaks into it.

Just another beat, and it's awesome. Now or never. Do, do, do, do, do. Angrier sounds break into it. Just another beat, and it's awesome. Now or never. Sultry soul, deep bass work.

Snoop says, "You know I got a wife." He really has to pick on this album if he's talking about having lots of sex with random people or if he has a wife because he goes all over the place. He thanks Martha Stewart and The Doc in the same verse. If you don't know The Doc, he is one of the great West Coast gangster rappers. I'd listen to this album probably as much, if not more, than I listened to "Straight Outta Compton" growing up. It could be done, but only I can do it. Just a great album, and he was a ghostwriter for Snoop and Dre. He was a proto—he was Dre's, I mean, Snoop's mentor. It's always nice to hear that there, and we have Dre's maybe best verse: "My story can't be erased; it's like a jungle sometimes on this planet of the apes. That's why I keep a couple banana clips just in case." It's fine gangsta pose, lovely G-funk style, ee ee on the quarter notes. He's just trying to be super hard here.

My song's set in stone. Yeah. Another beat change in here. I love the sample. The album ends with the negotiator.

I don't know why. The album's kind of mixed up in its themes. It has another hard beat and is super well produced. I can't stop loving you.

This soul dog is singing. If you’re struggling with what you're doing and are supposed to hate, forget what you think you deserve; you get what you negotiate. Again, Snoop is going to snoop. It's kind of a victory lap, and he repeats the title of one of his No Limit albums: "The game is to be sold, not told."

And I think that, I think, I think. I think if we're going to have a Snoop biopic, which of course we're going to have, it needs to be called either "The Greatest Story Ever Sold" or "The Game is to Be Sold, Not Told." That is what he's been doing his whole life. He has been selling the story. And he's great. All right.

Well, it looks like the baby's up. So I'm going to go hang out with her. I'm going to get ready for the day. Much like Snoop, I'm a family man, okay? I bet he has a blue bathrobe as well.

And I enjoy coffee quite a bit. It's not my personality, but I do enjoy coffee. All right, until next time, there's the camera.