Send "Rick Ross " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Latimesblogs |
 Paramnesia refers to a cranial condition in which memory is distorted and fantasy and objective experience are confused. Judging from Rick Ross’ career trajectory, this is one of his greatest assets.Two years ago, the Smoking Gun revealed William Roberts’ prison guard past. For a man who had constructed an elaborate self-portrait as a yacht-sailing, crab-eating, cocaine-peddling kingpin, it should’ve been a death blow — particularly when perpetual opportunist 50 Cent equated him to Chris Rock’s faux-gangsta from “CB4.” But unlike the rose wine from which he derived his “Rozay” nickname, Ross has improved with age. Hence “Teflon Don,” which refers to Ross’ ability to duck any credibility allegations. Whereas his first album, “Port of Miami,” relied on Michael Bay-worthy bombast, Ross has evolved into a surprisingly nimble rapper, as revealed on “Free Mason,” “Live Fast, Die Young,” and “Maybach Music III,” where his husky blunt-burned boasts hold their own against fellow heavyweights Jay-Z, T.I., Kanye West and Jadakiss. His chimerical mythologizing is as stubbornly entertaining as anything James Cameron could cook up, but Ross also reveals an endearing peek behind the platinum curtain. The Cee-Lo-assisted “Tears of Joy” examines the perils of holding the top perch, while “All the Money in the World” mourns his deceased dad....full text |
| Ew |
| Rick Ross is a competent rapper, but lyrics are by far the least important part of his appeal. That's truer than ever on his fourth and best album, Teflon Don. Ross' ear for lush, expansive beats has become keener and his industry Rolodex deeper, allowing him to make every track but the intro feel like an epic, costarring major talents like Jay-Z, Kanye West, Erykah Badu, and Drake. B+...full text |
| Nytimes |
| That someone would revive the memory of MC Hammer’s glory days and use it as an enthusiastic metaphor for modern-day rap excess was inevitable. That it would happen on an album that also samples a Bobby Seale speech is unexpected. That the rapper who’s pulled this off, and successfully at that, is Rick Ross is one of the great unlikely hip-hop success stories of the past decade. “Teflon Don” is Rick Ross’s fourth solo album, and the one that establishes him as one of rap’s most potent and creative forces. He’s a ferocious character, an impressive rapper and, as heard on this strong album, a clever and loose thinker, willing to try out new poses. There’s “MC Hammer,” of course, the bombastic celebration of the rap good life, on which he boasts, over a martial Lex Luger beat, “I got 30 cars, whole lotta dancers/I take ’em everywhere/I’m MC Hammer.” But that comes on the same album as “Tears of Joy,” one of Mr. Ross’s most striking songs to date. Following the clip of Mr. Seale, Mr. Ross begins delivering lines in a measured fashion reminiscent of spoken-word poetry — “Looking in the mirror but I don’t see much/Still running the streets so I don’t sleep much” — the gaps between them adding heft to the emotion. Singing the hook, Cee-Lo taps back into the grit of his Goodie Mob days, delivering genuine ache. On the beat, oceanic drums and a wailing guitar, brought together by the producer No I.D., evoke a funereal mood. It’s a vast leap for Mr. Ross, who just a few years ago was compensating for his lumpy street talk with imposing personality. Now he’s grown. “Teflon Don” isn’t the consistently sumptuous affair that his last album, the magisterial “Deeper Than Rap,” was, but it’s just as confident, a reminder that hip-hop social climbing isn’t monochromatic. He raps movingly about his parents on “All the Money in the World.” “Live Fast, Die Young,” featuring and produced by Kanye West, has the winning naïveté of Mr. West’s early work. “Aston Martin Music,” produced by J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League — responsible for most of the sensuous production on “Deeper Than Rap” — has the seductive allure of quiet storm R&B....full text |
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