The first one minute and thirty seconds of the first song delivers promise, Hurricane Chris displays hot flow while delivering some gangsta lyrics over a cool, synthy Shawty Redd beat. But, the second verse destroys all of the hope you had for his pathetic career. The watered, new gen, swag kid versions of club bangers (Halle Berry, Beat It Out the Frame, Coke Bottle, Hot Like Lava, No Worries, I Want It) accommodated by R&B love beats (Headboard, Last Call, Secret Lover) combine to make a two pronged fork of death in the production department. Throw in Hurricane Chris� simple, simple flow and his annoying, prepubescent buzzing bumblebee voice and that�s two strikes. For the third strike, Hurricane Chris� pedantic, self-absored lyrics that speak of nothing but money, his �skill,� and the women he gets just overflow the cup. They are so terrible he rhymes the same phrase EIGHT times in a row at one point. Unleashed is way worse than I expected. Hurricane Chris really should stop rapping.
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