Let’s get one thing straight, Rick Ross is not a great emcee. But like many so-so rappers before him (Wyclef, King Tee, O.D.B.) he has managed to make a great album, despite his shortcomings as a rapper. On paper, Ross is the picture of the rapper we’d love to hate. His resume finds him as an (alleged) ex-correctional officer that masquerades as a big, scary drug dealing rapper, who rhymes simplistically about sex, money, and drugs. And let’s not forget he’s fat. Fat Americans despise fat celebrities.

All criticisms aside, enjoying a Rick Ross album is akin to watching Al Pacino play Scarface, and taken as pure entertainment, it succeeds. On his fourth LP, Teflon Don, Rick is the rap John Gotti, a successful ex-con (or in this case, ex-cop, heh) that has transcended his past lifestyle into a legitimate businessman (or in this case, rapper). The soundtrack this time around is much more elevated than his previous efforts, with beats that trade the dirty south grime for a surprisingly more symphonic, soulful, and cinematic quality.

Much to 50 Cent’s dismay, the entire industry has embraced Rick Ross, as he taps an A-List guestlist to help flesh out Teflon Don into a fine piece of work. The album begins with the ironic “I’m Not A Star”, a J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League produced introduction that downplays his buzz, while pleasing fans of his old style. With that out of the way, the rest of the album is an epic production tour-de-force, where all the stars come out to shine.

He and Jay-Z share “Free Mason”, where Jigga steals the spotlight with an amazing (not “a mason”) religiously symbolic verse that eradicates any accusations of devil worship (?) that have been pinned on him, while John Legend adds that perfect bit of soul to the hook. This continues into the ridiculous “Tears of Joy”, which finds Ross basking in his own success, while Cee-Lo murders the hook like only he can. The lead single “Super High” (featuring Ne-Yo), also nails it, the over classic beat that would make Ice-T-circa-1988 jealous.

He takes things to an even more grandiose level on “Maybach Music III”, a lush, movie-like backdrop that finds Erykah Badu lending a hook, while each T.I., Jadakiss, and Ross get braggadocio over epic strings and horns. This picks up again later on the redundantly titled “Aston Martin Music” (most likely the beginning of a new trilogy), as he gets a little hook help from Chrisette Michelle, as well as Drake, who lends his hollowed out, mellow style to the beat. He, Trey Songz, and Diddy’s “No. 1″ is a club-knocking spiritual sequel to “Hello Good Morning”, but the crown jewel of of the LP is the Kanye West assisted “Live Fast, Die Young”, where No I.D. extends the life of the classic Kid Dynamite “Uphill Peace of Mind” sample, just as Rob Base & DJ EZ Rock did for “Times are Gettin Ill”, for this six minute magnum opus.

Ross does stick to his roots on both “B.M.F. (Blowin’ Money Fast)” and “M.C. Hammer”, two back to back Lex Luger baller anthems that find him in his natural element. While these will most likely be the athlete all-star club requests, they show the more familiar side of Ross and don’t have the A-List guest support to back him up, and are the album’s weakest moments.

And that essentially is the main issue behind Teflon Don – it’s a dope album by a mediocre rapper, but surely not the first in hip-hop history. Production-wise, the way everyone has gotten behind this suggests that this is what Biggie’s fifth album could have sounded like (minus the few southern styled tracks), but as it is, is missing the lyrical element from Ross. Thankfully that element is filled in by his guests, but subtracting them from the equation would probably knock the rating down a whole point.

Taken for what it’s worth, Teflon Don delivers. Yes, this is a hyped up, summer blockbuster of an album, the rap equivalent to Transformers 2, but given all of it’s elements added together, it does not disappoint.