Niggahlaws, Money Waters (Noir Sound)
CD Review
14.November.2006

Is an unmistakable voice enough to succeed in the rap game? Snoop Dogg has outlasted the stale-in-two-weeks genre on that asset alone, his nasal delivery forever a cornerstone of the LBC, and as the genre fills up with thousands of Dre, Rule and Tupac clones, only the most unmistakable voices stand out, the rest relegated to “featuring” status on scattered tracks and mixtapes.

Dallas has its fair share of talented MCs, but in terms of delivery, inflection and style, nobody--nobody--is as recognizable as Money Waters. The man’s certainly not new to the scene, years past his full-length debut The Porch, but this year, the MC finally matches his ability with quality beat production on Niggahlaws.

Money’s down-souf vocal stretching, a blend of hot sauces from Louisiana, Mississippi and Texas, makes dudes like Andre 3000 sound downright Caucasian in comparison, but it’s not just his accent stretching words like “underwear” and “Audelia” that make him stand out. The great thing about Money’s delivery is its musicality, and it’s not simple sing-song rapping, either. He’s not in a rush on tracks like “Submissive,” matching his rhymes to the beat; sometimes, five syllables will blur together like a drum fill, while for others, he’ll take his time with a word like “wow” or “ugly,” as if holding a note on a blues guitar solo.

Here, Money finally stretches his muscle with the region’s best hip-hop singles in some time, none more unforgettable than opening track “Fuckery.” This angry indictment of post-Katrina America (“They acting like we crossed the border / We gone from a slave to a nigga to a refugee, damn”) sees Money’s best-ever lyrics met by a bass-pumped, chronic-singed take on the ’70s organ style of Stevie Wonder and a call-to-arms chorus that sticks in your head. Too bad it’s filled with the F-word, or this would be a guaranteed radio hit. Seconds later, PPT’s Picnic drops a sweet down-souf melody on “Down Wit Ya,” a modest, down-tempo attack against two-faced friends.

The mood set by these tracks--aggressive, honest takes on the southern black community--is clouded by too much chatter about the usual suspects: bitches, hoes and weed. There are more than a few exceptions; “More Than Life,” in particular, is a head-nodding funk anthem about self-sufficiency in hard times and is full of no-nonsense wordplay (“Fuck dirty, the south can’t get no dirtier / Take a trip to Texassippi, it’s downright filthy”). But while the album's production is much more diverse and professional than last time, Niggahlaws still suffers from glaring pitfalls: misogyny (“Tongue Kissin’” and “Submissive” are brazen anti-slut decrees), excessive guest rappers (with the exception of Bavu Blakes’ fine, fitting turn on “Be Careful”) and too much length (73 minutes? Trim a few tracks, please).

An unmistakable voice won’t get the job done by itself, so Money Waters hasn’t crafted his ultimate album just yet. But compared to overrated rap heads like The Game, Money is downright conscientious and scholarly, and anybody who wants to bump the best straight-up street beats-n-rhymes in the South need look no further than Niggahlaws. 

Make up your own mind: Money Waters performs on Sunday, November 19, at Tom Cats, with Original Soul, Thesis and many more (quite a lineup, I might add). Buy the album there, or sample it at his MySpace site.