The beats on Shiesty Season are ominously pretty, built almost entirely on 808s and pianos. For someone who talks so much about violence, Pooh’s got a soothing tone to his voice even his “brrrt” ad-lib sounds more like birdsong than like the machine gun it’s clearly supposed to evoke. In a lot of ways, Pooh Shiesty is a throwback - an effortless trap-music shit-talker who doesn’t seem like he wants to sing or to cross over into other genres. The mixtape is a low-stakes but satisfying bit of business. None of the other tracks on Shiesty Season have been sticking with me like “Back In Blood,” but none of them need to. Right now, “Back In Blood” is at #37 on the Hot 100. (Right now, it’s “Pooh Shiesty, that’s my dog! But Pooh, you know I’m really shiesty!”) The song is a ready-made anthem. Bits and pieces of the song get stuck in my head for hours at a time. Pooh’s taunt is Clint Eastwood levels of laconic: “They ain’t got nowhere to go, I shot up everywhere they was/ Yeah, you know we took that shit from you, come get it back in blood.” The track pulls Durk out of his usual melodic languor, into a realm of fire-eyed intensity. “Back In Blood” is a simple song - an eerie piano loop, a heavy drumbeat, a weirdly hypnotic hook about welcoming someone else’s vengeance. Pooh Shiesty, the 21-year-old Memphis rapper who shares the track, is about to make Gucci a whole lot of money, and he’s about to further cement Gucci’s already-established legacy.
On “Ugly,” Gucci gets that old bounce back in his voice, and his lines gain a certain elasticity that I haven’t heard in a while: “I just Louisville slugged that lil boy like I’m from Kentucky/ The chopper knocked him out his shoes, and now that bitch on crutches/ We don’t call police, get in the streets and get our justice/ Gon’ get past ugly playing with me, that shit gon’ get disgusting.” Gucci sounds like he’s having fun, and he should sound like he’s having fun. That’s what happens on Pooh Shiesty’s “Ugly.” Every once in a while, though, you can hear Gucci crackle to life again. His autopilot is still perfectly solid, and so that’s where he generally remains. He’s a beloved rap elder who presumably never has to work another day in his life, but he keeps making music. Gucci Mane has probably recorded tens of thousands of songs in his career. It doesn’t happen all that often anymore. Roy pop up out that cut with that new Glock, I wish he would run (Grrah, grrah-grrah) His ass playin', bitch, I'm really icy (Really icy) Pooh Shiesty, that's my dawg, but Pooh, you know I'm really shiesty (My nigga) You told all them O.T.At this point, you can tell when Gucci Mane gives a shit. shirt (Nope) Wе had three hundred shots up in the car beforе we picked up Durk (3Hunna) You niggas who? Ain't got shit goin', go grab a glizzy, get alert (Alert) Shiesty G post "R.I.P." and reason he in the dirt (On slime, blrrrd, blrrrd) You gotta know I go too far (Let's go) It's two O's up on this hundred, one of 'em might stand for O'Block (Blrrrd) 'Bout twenty some shots left up in the K, fifteen still in the Glock (The glizzy) Keep my door unlocked and stop, I like gettin' on feet, park the car (Stop, stop), blrrrd (Park the car, blrrrd) We gettin' up close, do him dirty, I ain't showin' love (Nope) Eleven thousand all ones left my right pocket in the club (On God) These blue faces up on me dirty, I went and got it out the mud (For sure) If I took something, get it in blood (Blrrrd), I don't give a fuck what we was (Blrrrd, blrrrd) Bitch, I got my own fire (Blrrrd), don't need security in the club (Blrrrd, big blrrrd, nope) All that woofin' on the net (Net), nigga, I thought you was a thug They ain't got nowhere to go, I shot up everywhere they was (Blrrrd) Yeah, you know who took that shit from you (Blrrrd), come get it back in blood (Blrrrd, blrrrd) Bitch, come get it back in blood (Big blrrrd) We ain't mask up, no dodger ( Smurk), rich niggas know who it was (Fuck 'em) Extortin' shit just like the '80s ( Gang), want something back, get it in blood (God) Yeah, you know who took that shit from you, come get it back in blood ( Let's get it) Killed your mans, you keep on talkin', better get that shit in blood Give my shawty and them a dub, then they gon' walk inside this club (Yeah, yeah) Hit his lil' ass with that switch (Grrah), I bet that switch switch up his nerves Fuck the opps, inside my city, lil' bro put them in the mud (Brrah, facts) You can't come back to your hood, huh? (Nope) He was dissin' on my cousin, now his ass all in that wood, huh? (Boom, boom, boom) Book his ass, I wish he would come (Pussy) V.
If your nigga killer ain't dead, you shouldn't wear no R.I.P.
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