Tosten Burks is -1 through 13. Nothing’s worse than a rapper’s cover art improving at a faster rate than the music. Luckily, Tree’s output is keeping up with his A&R. “Trynawin,” the first single off of Sunday School II – the sequel to Tree’s tape from last May that still stands as some of the […]
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Yuppies and tanks, sharks and banks, odd birds with feminine grace. Cobb Salads. Zilla Rocca cracks wisecracks in code, hard-boiled tutorials courtesy of the noir masters. Roc Marci needed no pulp fiction. Hempstead offers its own education of broken glass, bricks and birds. Has-Lo operates on the beats, making guitars sound like swords being sharpened. […]
Crash Davis, boasting freshly cleaned slacks, rings, expensive watches and Queens who don’t speak English, smooth as Luther Ingram, with chops like Coltrane and Mingus. Roc. Ordained. Heavy chains. Rocking the Isaac Hayes shades. His life changed. It was a phase. Now he’s like Denzel in a Pelican Brief, pushing the Porsche yellow as American […]
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Harold Stallworth is actively seeking a reliable Russian hat wear connect. During his dead-end tenure as a loyal Flipmode lieutenant, Roc Marciano sounded like most underground New York rappers did at the turn of the 20th century. His writing was dense, aggressive, and spoken to power in a predictably snarling tone. Over the years, Marciano’s […]
What you know about it? 8-Ball corner pocket. Pull the salad out of the stocking. Dressed understated at the steakhouse, spaced out. Throwing salt on pork. Sip the water from the spring. Patent leather ski mask. I copped the coat in Mongolia. Pink tuxedo. Smooth shit. Roc Marciano: great rapper or greatest rapper? Previously: Reloaded […]
Craig Jenkins delivers like an 80-lb. baby. You’ve probably read a heap of prose glowingly anointing Roc Marciano’s Reloaded as one of 2012’s best hip-hop releases (true) but quietly intimating that this was achieved in part by Roc adhering to a style and standard of rap whose last hurrah on terrestrial radio was 1997 (not […]
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Deen has yet to record a shirtless “freestyle.” So I’ve been listening to this new Roc Marciano album quite a bit. It’s quite good. I can pretty much guarantee that you’ll be reading a review around these parts soon enough. Just not from me. I’m lazy and lack the depth required to reflect on rap […]
By Deen
You can tell Max Bell is a pimp by the way his shirt fit. Roc Marciano is never going to scream over a beat. He hardly ever gets above a whisper. There will be no “Backseat Freestyle.” Maybe you don’t like. Maybe you want harder drums and catchier hook. But Roc Marc doesn’t give a fuck. […]
Ka and Roc Marc rap in black and white. You are fam or foe. Weight is moving or it’s not. Struggle. Street politics. The pen keeps scribbling. Together, they are De Niro and Liotta in Goodfellas—before the fall, of course. They are camo shorts and crisp black and white tees. It’s the anti ‘bubble-gum backpack […]
Time for some Roc Marciano to poison the palate. As always, there are too many quotables to list without rewinding two dozen times. Yes, he did say that he runs the break like Dave Wingate.  Roc remains more vicious than an unfed Hoya. I can’t spot the sample so anyone with deeper crates should tell […]