At this point, we kind of all know what to expect from a Snoop album. With his classic debut, Doggystyle, he set the precedent for every other Snoop album to follow. He lost his way for a bit during the Doggfather Death Row era, as well as a short stint on No Limit. But he slowly regained composure once he signed with Geffen and teamed up with producers like The Neptunes, proving that he didn’t need Dr. Dre to make a hit. Since the Geffen deal, Snoop albums have followed a pretty simple formula of hot producers + west coast veterans + the one of kind smoothness of Snoop D-O-Double-G. 

     The Blue Carpet Treatment doesn’t stray from this formula, but truthfully doesn’t break much new ground either. Snoop simply carries on tradition, such as on the album opener “Think About It”, which finds the rapper fitting comfortably into his groove, fluidly riding the beat with beautiful cadence. “Crazy” follows, which finds Snoop sharing mic duties with Nate Dogg for a sticky-icky west coast groove, with production from Fredwreck. He does in fact surprise us however with “That’s That”, an unconventional late night club anthem, where he and R. Kelly vibe off Nottz’s unique production. 

      Tapping the best producers money can buy, there’s no shortage of quality production here. One of the best moments of the album is the Dr. Dre produced “Boss’ Life”, which fares much better than the album’s other Akon duet, “I Just Wanna Fuck You”. It’s surprising to see contributions from The Neptunes (“Vato”) and Timbaland (“Get A Light”) take a much more raw direction than you’d expect, as Snoop channels his almost forgotten hardcore gangsta rap roots. Meanwhile, Swizz Beatz chimes in for the much more accessable “Psst!”, which is yet another song built off of Snoop’s name, but thanks to Swizz’s ill production and Jaime Foxx’s fonky hook, it works. 

     While there are plenty of good moments on this record, its 21 tracks heavy, so there’s plenty of room for filler. “LAX”, the lousy collaboration with Ice Cube fronts an excruciatingly repetitive beat, while his team-up with Game pails in comparison to anything on The Doctor’s Advocate. Extra long posse cuts like “Candy” and “Don’t Stop”, which feature various members of the west-coast rap all stars, also disappoint. Meanwhile, songs like “A Bitch A Know” and “Like This” are well produced, but are so randomly structured (the first with no hook), they end up just sounding endlessly repetitive. Snoop gets introspective towards the end of the record, dedicating songs to God (“Conversations”) and his pee-wee football league (“Beat Up On Your Pads”), but the best thing out of these is the slightly above-average tracks is collabo with Dr. Dre, “Imagine”. 

      Snoop is at a point in his career where producing an album each year only fuels his various endorsements and movie cameos, so quality control really isn’t an issue. Still, he does manage to create a decent record here, but it’s nothing more than what one would expect from him at this point in his career.