Rating: 5 / 10

The grand opus of gunplay in 50-cent’s “Curtis” begins with the track “My Gun Go Off” which definitely sets the tone, but presents nothing new, of course.

After that the project takes no time in delving into a tornado of mostly boring and forgettable songs about the same thing. Women, cars, guns, women, cars, guns. It is amazing that an album can take on the same characteristics as shampoo. Wash, rinse, repeat, wash, rinse, repeat.

On this third major release by the famed “gangsta” rapper from Queens, New York, the overall production is no more impressive than the lyrics. The beats are just too simplistic, with only a few exceptions.

“I’ll Still Kill” featuring bad boy r&b singer Akon is just barely likeable, while the radio hit “I Get Money” has a hard hitting, head knocking pace to it.

The trance-like “Ayo Technology” featuring Justin Timberlake and Timbaland (who also produced the track) has a brilliant sound to it that is reminiscent of a video game. However, 50 Cent’s flow over this is absolutely horrible. This would have been better off just being a Justin Timberlake song.

The rest of the songs are so similar to one another and uninteresting that they aren’t even worth mentioning.

A true emcee usually doesn’t just rap. He or she also embraces the methods of storytelling and lyrically pays homage to those who have had a major influence on their own style.

“Curtis” is so self-indulgent that it comes off as a “Look what I can do!” trying hard to make a good impression with a lame magic trick by pulling random lines about guns, women, and money out of a hat. Maybe you just can’t teach an old rapper new tricks.

The only song even worth a rewind is “Movin’ On Up.” Though the lyrical content is no different from any of the other tracks, the production behind it is incredibly impressive and 50 Cent’s rhyme scheme is perfectly matched to it.

“Curtis” is more than likely receiving a 5 out of 10 on the rating scale, and “Movin’ On Up” is probably responsible for 4 of those points.

The 5th point is due to the fact that, in comparison to all the monotonous dance-themed, would-be “rap” songs completely swamping the industry right now (anything that consists of or encourages 100 percent movement and 0 percent listening),

“Curtis” is somewhat of a tolerable little intermission. This is only because, unlike most acts today, he actually does rap instead of chanting the same brainless hook over and over while sporting a white-T. However, in 50 Cent’s case, that isn’t saying very much.

To spare anymore complex justification for the rebuking of this album, it can be summed up as simply as this: This album is whack. Somewhere right now, a man named Curtis Jackson is sitting back laughing hysterically.

Because he knows that if hip-hop really is dead, it’s probably because of artists like him.