Review Summary: AYE! Don't get this. OKAY?!6 of 7 thought this review was well written
One of the oldest excuses in the book is “I’m just holding it for a friend.” And one of the most frequented sayings by OJ Da Juiceman (amongst his many, many adlibs) is that exact saying. Childhood friend and weedcarrier of So Icey Entertainment CEO Gucci Mane, OJ Da Juiceman specializes in wasting epic beats and sounding like – as one blogger put it – a “gay Chihuahua” “pirate rapper.” In theory, he’s just another decent trap rapper from Atlanta, but in execution, he’s God awful. On his first official album, Young Juice – or as he says it, ‘Yun Joo’ – shows that he belongs in the purse of a celebrity, not in the rap game.
Obviously overly-influenced by Gucci Mane’s 2008 song “Colors” – which has La Flare cleverly rapping about the colors of his cars for nearly four minutes – OJ loves to talk about the tints of his diamonds and shades of his cars. In a terrible mixture of stupid punchlines (his diamonds are “white like Jackie Chan” and his wrist shines “like a Chandelier”) and generic topics such as automobiles, jewelry and occasionally cocaine, Juiceman has no idea how to write a fun song, no less make it cohesive with his sporadic tangents. On top of that, with his effeminate, high-pitched yelp, barely up-tempo flow, and his annoying, overused adlibs like “aye” and “okay” (which he even once admitted to being a ‘bag’ of them) OJ showcases himself to be one of the worst micwielders ever to appear in the game.
The only thing that could possibly salvage The Otha Side Of The Trap
are the instrumental scraps that Gucci Mane feeds the gay Chihuahua that is OJ. Despite being deemed unfitting for his work, the beat leftovers Gucci hands out to his So Icey associates are still amazing
. Riddled with epic horn loops, bouncy Casio samples, and thumping basslines, the production is the only redeeming quality of The Otha Side Of The Trap
. In the intro to one song, OJ states “Zaytoven, you a fool fo’ dis one.” It’s sad how accurate that is, as a producer of Zaytoven’s caliber shouldn’t have to collaborate with a wannabe like Juiceman.
Annoying, terrible and unfit for the beats he’s fed, OJ Da Juiceman’s effort on The Otha Side Of The Trap
exhibits what he’s all about
: bad punchlines, irritable rapping, unoriginal topics, and spectacular beats. As hard as he pushes for a coke dealer image, the only white girl OJ has is Paris Hilton, and that’s only because he’s in her handbag.