Rick Ross

Naked addiction meets violent self-determination for an album high on hustler voyeurism and hardboiled tales of cocaine cowboy mischief. Ross is a self-anointed boss of "M-I-Ya-Yo," and while he enjoys the small, simple things -- Lear jets, machine guns -- all this iron chef really needs "is baking soda, some pots and pans." The production is slow and at times plodding, and Ross' approach on Port is reminiscent of Young Jeezy both in form and focus.