Music reviews. CD reviews. Critically hip!

I first heard J.R. Writer as he ripped the shit out of the intro to “Diplomatic Immunity 2” and I remember thinking to myself: damn, Dipset’s about to take over Hip-Hop. After all, they did house big names like Cam’ron and Juelz Santana, and with background acts like Jim Jones, Hell Rell, and of course Mr. Writer, how could they not? Well fast-forward a few years and other than Jimmy’s “We Fly High” there hasn’t been much noise from the Dip on a national level. But I guaran-damn-tee you that if you ask any New York Hip-Hop head who runs the streets, most will find it hard to argue against the crew that Cam built. A big reason why is their versatility. Just as Cam can hit you with some of that patented “rootie-tootie, fruity louie, what I usually do?” and Jones can get as gangster as any rapper in the industry, J.R. easily flips enough metaphors to rival even the likes of Lloyd Banks and Papoose in the New York scene. Basically, if Hip-Hop were the NBA, the Dip would easily have one of the strongest squads and Mr. Writer would be the guy that gets guarded by the other team’s weakest player… and he’d be dropping buckets on him all night.

So now we find ourselves here: 2008 and J.R. Writer is releasing his next in line of the Writer’s Block series, Writer’s Block 5. I could probably sit here and list the many sicky lines of the album, but then you’d be missing out on the development of an entrepreneur that knows how to get the most out of his resources. Without the assistance of any big name artists, producers, or anyone outside of his direct circle, J.R. Writer breezes through an entire 14 track disk that hits you with banger after banger of top notch lyricism over some refreshing New York beats that combine for one of those typical east-coast, grimey Hip-Hop releases that always hit the spot. Even within the first two bars of the album J.R.’s already smacking you in the face with a quick wit about the industry on the song simply titled Writer’s Block 5 Intro:

 

“Who y’all? They don’t like y’all!

You playing with them light bars

I’m bout to flood this shit

The game gon’ need a lifeguard”

Writer never really strays too far from bars like these, and although usually that would get kind of repetitive, he maintains enough innovation in both the production and rhymes, not to mention that NY flow that he carries so effortlessly, that by the end you undoubtedly have to respect him as an artist. The stronger efforts come on tracks like We Gettin’ It Baby, Dear Hip-Hop, and Runner, but like I said before, the strength of the album comes in how the dropoff from the best song to the worst isn’t much, if any – and that’s a compliment. There’s even a five-minute freestyle from Writer’s homie Don P from jail that has a few highlight bars:

“It’s my year, so of course I’ma floss

So cool, when I leave the room

I leave frost on the wall”

“Bitches, we bag em

And tea bag em

I’m getting fast money like blow

Yours slow like weed baggin”

When an album has a freestyle from jail that can probably merck about half of the lyrics being spit in today’s industry, you know they’re doing something right. Don P’s hundred or so bars is pretty much a microcosm to the macro that is Writer’s Block 5, and if you’re a fan of the Dipset, even better: this is just another album in the line of the many strong releases that we’ve seen from the Set over the years. So if you’re a Hip-Hop head and want to hear clean metaphors and some top quality east-coast production, get off your asses and find a way to cop this release… the Writer of the album guarantees it.