Frankly, I’m amazed that some white powder didn’t spill onto my jeans when I first opened this album, as its 49 minutes are absolutely overloaded with cocaine. This lack of diversity sounds like a recipe for disaster for the Thornton brothers, who took four years – an eternity in rap – to release the follow-up to their excellent Lord Willin’. Amazingly, however, they manage to write an incredibly nuanced and unique symphony using only one note.

Pusha T and Malice do so through their unflinching portrayal of two dope boys at the top of the game. This hardly an original role in rap music, but they add an uncommon depth. Many emcees can do a decent job of imparting swagger and hustle, and these elements are certainly not missing from the album: “Pyrex stirrers turned into Cavalli furs/The full-length cat, when I wave, the kitty purrs.”

Clipse subtly shows more depth as well, with above average perspective on the pitfalls of their profession, and a dry, ironic sense of near-desperation, and the sobering feeling that things could come crashing down at any moment: “…I understand, cause people need things/And they will take it from you and take you from your seedlings.” The amazing thing is how light-handed they are with it, however, and combine everything seamlessly, often within the same track.

So much of the equation in rap music, however, is production, and Pharrell (and, I assume, the un-credited Chad) have a great vision for these songs that hangs very well with the raps to unify the album. The soundscapes are mostly bleak, sparse, and off-kilter grime that only hints at melody. Though they take a less organic approach, they recall some of the RZA’s finer moments. Standouts include the ghostly piano runs of Ride Around Shining, the swerving and decidedly Neptunian Mama I’m So Sorry, and the insistent mechanical pulse of Trill.

The second single, Wamp Wamp, falls a little flat, but otherwise, every track is strong. Standouts include the pulsating “Mr. Me Too” and Hello New World, which finds Malice at his best: “Anything that keep mama from cryin’/Visitin’ you behind that glass while you away sentencin’/Because the judge is sayin’ ‘life’ like it ain’t someone’s life.”

This is a remarkable album. It takes a look at the reality and fantasy of the drug game from many different angles, and does so without being overly heavy-handed or pretentious. Matched well with a unique production concept, the result is a remarkable achievement. One can only hope that Malice and Pusha surface again before another four years pass.