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CD review: Rick Ross’ ‘God Forgives, I Don’t’

Shea Serrano

The Details

Rick Ross
God Forgives, I Don't
Three stars

On Rick Ross’s latest album, God Forgives, I Don’t, the Miami rapper mostly retraces the same steps he perfected on 2010’s Teflon Don (turning decadence into a meme, basically), periodically to the detriment of creativity but rarely at the expense of the listener.

He steps in front of gigantic, opera-esque production from Harry Fraud, J.U.S.T.I.C.E League, Pharrell and others, and stands beside Dr. Dre, Jay-Z and André 3000—cocky and loud and brash, grunting about expensive watches and solid diamond helicopters. It’s a tactic that should grow tiresome, but he’s a master at it now. When he veers opposite, posturing at an impoverished lifestyle he might or might not have experienced, even that’s only a literary device to make his grands more grandiose.

Ross has spent the majority of his career lying himself into excellence. Same here. It’s okay, though. God forgives.


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