A few years ago, one of our (long since departed) readers mentioned a sixteen year old kid from the Bronx, Cory Gunz, who, he claimed, was going to be the future of hip hop. We did a feature on him, and after hearing some of his early work it seemed guaranteed that Cory would soon be on his way to stardom. Fast forward a couple of years to the start of 2008, a period during which he had been passed around a couple of record labels, ultimately being shelved, along with at least one other great rapper, during the Jay-Z reign over at Def Jam, and it seemed like his career was in limbo.
That all changed, of course, at the beginning of this summer, when he appeared on the original version of Lil Wayne's A Milli. I've already discussed how much I dislike the beat on the song, but its one redeeming feature is the fact that it's led to the reemergence of Cory Gunz with his first real exposure to mainstream audiences. One could still argue that, even with the success of A Milli, Cory still has yet to have a hit as big as his father's collaboration with Lord Tariq, Deja Vu. Yet at this point there's no doubt that he's surpassed his father as an emcee, despite the fact that Peter Gunz was a gifted rapper in his own right (if he never had to deal with the stigma of being Shaq's sidekick for so much of his career, Peter would likely have been more than a one-hit wonder).
With the release date of his official album still up in the air, Cory recently released a new mixtape, Best Kept Secret, to continue the buzz that's been building around him. As with his previous mixtapes, Cory spends as much time rapping over old beats as he does over new instrumentals, jacking throwbacks from A Tribe Called Quest, Busta Rhymes and Pastor-turned-G-Unit valet Mason Betha. With most other mixtape rappers, it becomes tiresome to hear them attempt to mimic another emcee's delivery on an old track. Cory, however, sticks with his own unique style throughout, so you'll never really feel like you're hearing a lesser version of the original. In fact, the highlight of the tape is hearing Gunz detail the various ups and downs of his major label career, while calling out former Def Jam president Jay-Z, over the beat from Tribe's Check the Rhime.
For those of you who have been following Cory's career for the past few years, you'll probably notice that his delivery has become more polished since his last mixtape, as if he's been preparing for an inevitable transition to mainstream appearances now that he's gained some amount of crossover appeal from his turn on A Millie. The upshot is that he sounds a lot more comfortable on R&B tracks, as on the remix to Ryan Leslie's Addiction, the type of song that has a much better chance at finding Billboard success than what he was putting out prior to this, songs that had a tendency to leave mainstream audiences overwhelmed by his habit of cramming thirty-two bars worth of lyrics into just sixteen. It's an artistic direction that may leave his original fanbase less than thrilled, and he runs the risk of becoming the next generation's version of Fabolous (i.e., a once hardcore rapper reduced to guest appearances on the R&B Flavor of the Month's latest single), however the reasoning behind the change is understandable; having spent the last several years unsuccessfully trying to get his album released, enticing the label executives with the promise of a Top 10 single/ringtone may be Cory's best shot at graduating from mixtapes to actual cds.
If it were up to me, though, I'd prefer it if he just stuck to rapping the way that he used to. I suppose you can't spend your entire career spitting freestyle verses, however, so there's probably no point in reminiscing. Putting that aside, Best Kept Secret is still a very solid offering, with more than a handful of songs that are better than any rap song that's currently getting played on mainstream radio.
Also worth noting is the fact that Ice-T makes a seemingly random appearance on the mixtape, but those of you hoping for another round of verbal sparring with Soulja Boy will be disappointed. Ice does little more than offer up a half-hearted endorsement of the "Young Gunna" and his alleged arsenal. I suppose the endorsement of a young emcee who actually makes an attempt to be lyrical could, if one were really trying to read into it, be seen as a roundabout way for Ice-T to once again voice his displeasure with Soulja Boy. More likely it's just an attempt by Ice to keep his name somewhat relevant among a hip hop audience that is now more familiar with him for his role as a former rapper turned fictional cop than as a fictional gangster turned rapper.