Over Carlos “Six July” Broady’s soulful offering, Royce comes clean right off the bat ‘fessing that “its hard to believe that Columbia couldn’t market me to numbers like D-12 at least/I played myself for radio play/I never dance/but the skill itself is a second chance.” Royce really starts smoking on Ty Fyffe’s overly dramatic “Throw Back”: “coldest flow of the summer/I see’em come and they go/I see’em fumble the flow/there’s more goers than comers/put the piece to your dome/then you at peace with the chrome/peel your cap and eat you/pick my teeth with your bones.” You can almost hear the mic sizzling. Perhaps what is more responsible for the comparative lack of braggadocio is that Royce is too busy putting his lifetime in between the paper’s lines. Only this time Royce doesn’t need to tell you that his “saliva and spit can split thread into fiber and bits,” because it is evident in every line and there is really no need for Royce to tell you. The unflappable confidence Royce displayed on “Boom” runs through all 16 tracks. It is a rare occasion to hear an emcee spit like this such, fury, hunger, frustration, passion and utter desperation. If anything is certain, it is Royce of his own abilities. With that in mind, Royce seems to ignore his own philosophy throughout the entire album. Nothing is certain in this game, nothing is certain in this life only death. Which is why the title is so appropriate, Royce saw his certain rise to superstardom crumble, he saw his once seemingly unbreakable relationship with the world’s biggest rapper disintegrate.
Nickel-nine had to start again he had to overcome new odds, against all odds. He came close, “Bad Meets Evil” lit the fuse and “Boom” caused the explosion but the flood gates soon burst and the flames were doused.
He should already be there celebrated, jocked, mentioned among hip hop’s elite. I really shouldn’t be writing an intro like this for Royce.
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