For those that like to categorize, Necro might be described as a combination of Eminem , Kool G Rap and Master P. When listening to the truly sick shit that he drops in his lyrics, audiences will immediately compare him to a certain Mr. Mathers, yet the difference is a hardcore Brooklyn attitude, and lyrics ten times sicker. His breathless cadence and sometimes mush-mouthed vocab shows influence from G. Rap, and his ambition to be a rapper / producer / director / label CEO is easily comparable to that of P. But with all of these similarities, there really isn’t another Necro in this industry - he’s definitely on his own shit.
Necro isn’t for the meek. If a word like ‘cunt’ over an evil beat makes you cringe, then just skip this disc entirely. But, if you actually prefer to hear 1001 ways that the self-produced Necro will kill / rape you, then keep listening. Those with a tough stomach will enjoy Necro’s morbid sense of humor, laughing out loud at of the illness of “I’m fuckin’ your chick with an asbestos covered bread stick” or “I’ve got a gun to pull / and I’m comfortable / pumpin’ a full /clip into the wonderful front of your skull”. But when he starts singing hooks about “You’re Dead” or “your cunt looks so good and my dick is ready”, the line between laughing and vomiting becomes thin. Things turn even more vile when Necro pisses on St. Nick, during his “Christmas Freestyle”, recorded live off the radio, late one December evening. The question remains – is it too sick? That’s for the listener to decide.
Necro’s made it clear that he doesn’t consider this his album, but instead a collection of his previously released joints, plus some new material. This does, at times, make it seem a little too sporadic, as Necro’s newer material shows improvement from some of his earlier stuff. While classics like “Underground”, “Get On Your Knees” and the song about everyone’s favorite houseguests, “Cockroaches”, are abound, the title track takes the cake. “I Need Drugs”, is a hilarious flip on LL’s “I Need Love”, in which Necro imitates the original song’s soft-spoken Cool J, except this time he’s speaking to his dealer. The more light-hearted, tongue-in-cheek drug humor of this song is a bit easier to swallow than his usual stuff, and should reel in a few more victims by the time it hits wax.
While this “greatest hits” album sometimes shows a few freshman mistakes of our hero, it also marks the beginning of his twisted legacy, with plenty of room for improvement in the future. It’s evident that those that aren’t sickened by the first listen will be among his ever-growing army of cockroaches. This just could be the next big thing.
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