Brown has many blunts to blaze before the song title can be accepted at face value, but the Hybrid has my vote for rapper of the year. This explains why I stay writing on the Grandmama-jersey sporting rapper when I have a half-dozen other posts pinballing around my head. Other rappers need better promotion, but other rappers don’t write blog posts about how Love is their favorite band of all-time. And it has been verified in the pages of the LA Weekly that he is correct.
The last few lines of “Greatest Rapper Ever” help explain the hyperbole. “I rap like I bet my life because in all actuality, I did.” Most MC’s leverage everything to “make it,” but few rap that way. They’d rather show off their nonchalance and effortless cool. Chains and limitless wealth manifesting themselves in relaxed bars and drowsy cadence. Brown wheezes and attacks every note, stretching his voice like those gummy green sticky hands that you’d find in a quarter machine at a coffee shop. On a musical level, he drills every syllable perfectly, rhyming “Rosario Dawson” and “awesome,” without awkward phrasing. It generates a gathering speed, like he’s always springboarding into the next scheme. Then he drops a couplet about being so desperate that he once sold a pregnant woman crack and charged extra to let her smoke it inside the car. It’s the sort of detail you’d never hear from Big Meech, not the one from Lynwood, the one from the port of Miami.–Weiss
MP3: Danny Brown-“The Greatest Rapper Ever”