![]() On “City View,” he spits “All this paper got me shitting in public.” After cleaning off the water I spat onto my computer screen, I ran the song back because I was almost certain I’d misheard him. One of the earlier cuts is a track titled “Celebrate,” where he rhymes “Rolex” with “mo’ sex.” Naturally, you have to wonder what reason Wiz even has to celebrate what was the last major development in his career as a rapper? In the six years since Kush & OJ, all he’s given us are watered down versions of “Mezmorized.” What happened to all of that youthful energy? What happened to the poetry he used to conjure about Polo socks and expensive sunglasses? This album is so unimaginative that he unironically starts a verse off with “One for the money” … all that’s missing is a Skizzy Mars feature. The Khalifa experience is almost an exercise in cringing. On Khalifa, Wiz sounds tired of his own shit, like he sighs before he hits each joint. The problem is when the artist himself loses sight of his raison d’etre. There’s nothing wrong with his one-dimensionality Pusha T has rapped about cocaine for 20 years and it still hasn’t gotten old. Yet, like his fans (who are definitely too old for this shit now), Wiz’s career hasn’t aged so well.
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