In 2005, Boys N Da Hood signed to Bad Boy, and shortly thereafter, one member ventured solo, landing a deal with Def Jam. Two million record sales later, Young Jeezy is a household name, a pioneer of the “New South” movement, and closed out 2006 with the release of his second LP, The Inspiration. Truth be told, the original title for this LP was The Inspiration: Thug Motivation 102. Def Jam stepped in and shortened the title to simply, The Inspiration – after all, we wouldn’t want anyone assuming that this was more or less the same album he released last year, right?  

     Smart move, because that’s exactly what this is. But if ain’t broke, don’t fix it, huh? Jeezy’s one of kind style can be compared to the gruffness of Southern forefather, Scarface, mixed with the corniest of backpack punchline rappers, except Jeezy cracks jokes about, well, crack (and the sale and distribution of it, of course). Adding to his arsenal of groan-inducing one-liners, is his cache of never forgotten, trademark adlibs of the “Ay”, “That’s Right”, “Yeeeeeeeeeah”, “Ha-Haaa”, and “Deeeaaaayumn” variety. Even when this critic was spinning at Tryst in Las Vegas, a mic wielding Jeezy managed to spit those same adlibs over songs like “Nuthin’ But A G Thing” and “What U Know About That”. It’s what he does. 

     But there’s something endearing about Young Jeezy, perhaps that he – like Fozzy Bear – chuckles at his own jokes, which somehow lets him get away with this blissful ignorance. File it under “so-bad-it’s-good”, when the opening bars of “Hypnotize (Intro)” kick the album off, the listener is immediately enraptured by Shawty Redd’s sinister production and Jeezy’s taunting Fonzy-isms (“Ay?.Ay?.Ay”). Once he has you under his spell, he lays down the law: “Now I command you niggas to get money”. Can’t argue with that. 

     However much of the album suffers from redundancy, such as on “J.E.E.Z.Y.”, where he fails to deliver on another otherwise dope Shawty Redd beat, driving his repetitive hook into the ground. Still, Jeezy’s got joints – most notably the first pair of singles. “I Luv It” finds T.I. producer DJ Toomp more or less rehashing his “What U Know” beat into an up-tempo anthem for Jeezy, and you can’t help but love it yourself. R. Kelly helps offset the album’s redundancy on the cleverly hooked “Go Getta”, while Timbaland provides some late night hype for the next potential single, “3 A.M.”. And children of the 80′s will undoubtedly crack a smile at Cool and Dre’s ballsy Hall & Oats interpolation on “Streets On Lock”. “Bury Me A G” also knocks, as J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League’s Roc-A-Fella (circa 2002) inspired production, along with Jeezy’s visual narrative, lend a slightly different feel than the rest of the record. 

      But while Jeezy executes the aforementioned songs well, on some of the album’s other tracks – not so much. Sure, he may be “The Realest” – a song that revels in the fact that he’s one of the only actual former drug dealers out there rhyming – but that’s really no excuse for the song’s masterbatory electric guitar solo. “Keep It Gangsta” (feat. Slick Pulla and Blood Raw) and “I Got Money” both drown themselves out in more unapologetic, church-bell ringing redundancy. And the Diana Ross “Muscles” sampled “The Inspiration (Follow Me)” has been done. 

     There’s no questioning Jeezy’s authenticity – he is what he says he is – and his die hard fans are likely to champion The Inspiration as another stroke of brilliance from the Atlanta (not a) rapper. But Jeezy might need to branch out, come up with some new adlibs, or try some different styles on for size if he hopes to inspire the rest of us out there.