3.6 - Towards the end of her life, my grandmother’s impeccable cooking skills started to deteriorate. She still prepared huge feasts and she’d lovingly encourage, ply, shame and guilt trip us into stuffing ourselves well past satiation. Listening to the 73 minutes of this album feels like eating at my late grandma’s. Sure, everything served up is okay, even good, and I appreciate the effort to put it all together. But I end up feeling bad for wanting much, much less of it. Standouts: “New Jack Hustler”, “Bitches 2.”