Even though Ghostface has attained Zeus-like status in rap’s corridors, it’s no secret that the follow-up albums to his breakthrough, Supreme Clientele, haven’t packed the same punch. It might have well been a conscious decision on his part to caramelize his unabashedly raw sound to swell up his billboard scans, but the end result was two albums that left true heads wandering where Ghost’s mojo had disappeared to.

    Despair not, rap fiends, for Ghostface is back in true form with his Theodore crew (Trife Da God, Solomon Childs, Wiggs, Crime Life, Cappadonna), and they’re out to bring rap justice. After one listen to the album, it becomes painstakingly clear that 718 is the album that should have followed Supreme Clientele. The disc is a superb collection of heavy-metal rap beats, and grimy lyrical salvos that makes a mockery of almost all the underground and mainstream rap music currently in heavy rotation.

    Take for instance the opening cut, “Guerilla Hood,” a track that was originally slated for the Pretty Toney album. Ghost delivers another extra-terrestrial performance on this that points out once again why he exists on a whole other peninsula when it comes to “mc”-ing. Most members of the Theodore collective give solid performances, but the one that gets the most shine is Trife. On the knuckle-scraping “Who are We” featuring Atlanta’s own BoneCrusher, Trife shows he’s ready for the limelight with lethal tandem lines like: “It’s Trife the barbarian / quick to put your dogs to rest like veterinarians / Have them laying up somewhere in the Presbyterian /  Doctors putting air in him / They got his soul floating like he was high off helium.”

    In the same way the Supreme Clientele disc kept hitting you with brain-freezing joints one after the other like “One,” “Malcolm,” “Nutmeg,” so too does this album keep hitting you in the head with amazing, well-executed, songs like “Paychecks,” “Work,” and “Smith Brothers.” On this album, Ghost has no encumbrances like having that radio single featuring a Missy to lure in the ladies, this is an album strictly for the streets. You don’t dance to this, you lean back in your seat with some trees, and just feel it.

    The producers that handle the production (Emile, K-Def, Cilvaringz, Milestone, Dirty Dean) also deserve major props for providing worthy music that matches up to the intensity and accuracy of the verbal darts being thrown. Ultimately, the album proves that Ghost is best when he is complete soul-controller of his creations, and the exemplary end result speaks for itself. Go out and buy this album now.