Ludacris "Chicken-N-Beer" [2003]

If you were ever under the impression that all the bragging going on in rap albums had something to do with profound, deep-set insecurity, for proof look no further than Ludacris' "Chicken-N-Beer." Because the former radio DJ is so desperate to get himself some Jay-Z money, he inflates his prosperity and importance in virtually every syllable of this album. He's trying to align himself with the Dirty South movement (and actually hails from the South, I guess, somewhere), but ultimately he's interested in LA prominence via the East Coast, like he thinks he can be Will Smith or something. The numbing repetition of Ludacris' so-called "hooks" betray him as a total amateur; no wonder he was in such a hurry to get to Hollywood. And while subtlety was never hip-hop's long suit, the ham-handed obviousness of the sex-and-capital lusts are enough to make Donald Trump holler, "Too much!" Elsewhere, Ludacris transparently cops Kanye West's method of slowing down Curtis Mayfield samples and rapping about how hard he's had it coming up. But again, he can't get out of his own way, driving every semi-decent inspiration right into the garbage dump with sociopathic over-use. As a sort of capper to the whole lame-ass proceedings, Ludacris actually takes pains to demonstrate a pedestrian version of Eminem while proving he's got nothing on Snoop Dogg when it comes to smoking weed. Has any recording artist of any genre ever pushed so aggressively to prove he's nothing special?