Wiz feels most significant on Rolling Papers 2 when he takes advantage of the album’s length and endless funds to put some shine on unsung artists he genuinely appreciates. Then, Wiz falls further away from his comfort zone, creating the clumsy and downbeat “B Ok” a love ode nearing the bleakness of Drake’s “March 14th.” His formerly calm and collected flow like he just faced a blunt solo in one sitting is instead drowsy leading you to wonder what happened to the artist whose presence magically transformed “ We Dem Boyz” into an immortal club anthem. On “Real Rich,” Wiz gets an unusually weak Tay Keith beat that doesn’t have the bounce that catapulted Memphis’ BlocBoy JB into becoming rap’s Shoot-dancing superstar. When Wiz isn’t rehashing old ideas, he’s forcing new ones. Miami (“She got a million dollar mouth/She was born with it/She went to Dr. Williams/Where Is the Love,” but the chemistry the two had on their 2009 collaboration How Fly seems all but gone and Curren$y’s once unparalleled descriptive ability to make the most basic picture become vivid is replaced with a half-assed, bitter verse about a woman who went to Dr. “Ocean” nearly sounds like it was recorded in 2010, with longtime producer Cardo that’s reminiscent of Kush and Orange Juice’s “ Mezmorized,” but it’s wasted on Wiz lifelessly making his way through what should’ve been an album standout. He falls back on old ideas, hardly taking any swings. No matter what, as long as Wiz is still talking weed his fanbase will still scream for him and he’ll remain a star: the downside of depending so heavily on fans who don’t want you to change. Wiz is going through the motions aware he’s existing relatively pressure-free-similar to his mentor Snoop Dogg, who pops in on “Penthouse” to spit the same lethargic verse he’s been spitting since 2005. The issue with Rolling Papers 2 is that, over the course of its absurd 25 tracks and 90 minutes, it feels like there are no stakes at all. Playboi Carti’s recent Die Lit refreshingly didn’t set out to be a groundbreaking genre-changer but it’s impact rivaled all the self-serious major-label releases that screamed classic from the rooftops. Sometimes the most fun music has low stakes.
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