YG has flown the gangsta-rap flag high since his out-of-nowhere breakthrough album My Krazy Life. On that LP, he burst into the mainstream with a huge help from the chunky, house-y synths of DJ Mustard. He ditched his right-hand man after a feud and came up with Still Brazy, a more ambitious effort steeped in all-eyes-on-me paranoia. It’s hard to not feel like Stay Dangerous is a step back. It’s not weird enough to feel exciting, but more importantly, it’s sorely lacking the urgency that put YG on the map in the first place.

There’s a reason YG’s breakthrough didn’t feel like it was ever coming – there isn’t much about him to indicate he has star quality in the post-2010 rap world. He’s a Los Angeles gangsta rapper through-and-through. His flow rarely delineates; usually slinking in between DJ Mustard’s plinky synths. And there’s no singing here, only shouting.

But he plays the role well. You won’t ever doubt that YG grew up rugged tough on LA’s streets. His music is reeking in Compton slang in all the best ways. Look no further than the album’s lead single, ‘Suu Whoop’, which is basically a front-to-back ode to Blood life. There are very few classic gangsta-rappers hanging around music at the moment, and so YG has a lot of open space to bounce around where his competitors wouldn’t bother roaming. When he drags his words out, like the way he murmurs stay daaangerous at the beginning of ‘Bulletproof’, he sounds like a shiny Snoop Dogg.

The big change on Stay Dangerous is the re-introduction of DJ Mustard. The same producer who once turned Iggy Azalea viral gets production credits on ten of the fifteen tracks. But Mustard sounds a lot more subdued on this project compared to My Krazy Life. Stay Dangerous almost sounds like a night-time version of that album. The producer’s trademark chunky synths still turn up everywhere, but they often simmer and boil where they used to pop and crack nastily. There are some highlights. ‘Slay’ has a more nutty, trap-influenced backdrop to complement Mustard’s synths and Quavo sounds like a natural fit over it. The back-to-back tracks of ‘Too Cocky’ and ‘Big Bank’ amplify the bleeping synths until they sound like eerie radar blips.

And it’s no secret that YG loves that linear, toe-tapping sound that Mustard plies his trade in. Those sharp, bouncing house synths allow him to sneak in and around them like a blood-red snake. He plays around with his voice, snarling and squealing at different times in that off-kilter West Coast tone to cleverly throw your attention in different directions. He’s as confident a rapper as they come.

Most importantly, he’s become particularly adept at writing hooks over these sorts of beats. The highlights on most of these tracks are the clever little catchy choruses he delivers and he’s often able to pack an impressive amount of detail and personality into them. ‘Bulletproof’ has one of the better hooks he’s ever written and it’ll get buried into your brain – “hop in the coupe, subtract the roof, like what it do?/heard you don’t like me, well nigga fuck it too/heard you tryna wife her up, I’m tryna pipe her loose/all my niggas got stripes (rah), sabretooth!”). The way he hisses rah! on the track underneath the beat will make you laugh, just like the way he shouts “YG, how you like your bitches? Hibachi!” on the refrain from ‘Too Cocky’ or his high-pitched yelps of suu whooooop! on the lead single. The Compton rapper’s one undeniable talent as an MC is his ability to write a twisty, ear-burrowing hook, and Stay Dangerous reaffirms that talent.

But this album just feels like a bit of an odd turn for him. Still Brazy was an impressive sophomore effort, seeming to indicate that YG was interested in both making bangers and developing as an artist. It certainly wasn’t perfect, but it had thunderous hits like ‘Twist My Fingaz’ and ‘Why You Always Hatin?’ mixed with great, peak-paranoid rapper gems like ‘Who Shot Me?’. Stay Dangerous feels like a bit of a safe play, and almost as if YG found himself without much to say – he released his Godfather I and II and now he’s stuck wondering where to head, so he came back home.

Going back to Mustard seems to be part of the issue. The Los Angeles producer has a distinct and appealing sound and he has his moments here, but he’s really pulling one trick over and over again. The two best tracks on this album aren’t produced by him. ‘666’ – quite easily the best track on this whole thing – has a classic, humming intergalactic beat courtesy of the great Mike WiLL Made-It (those two would make a great joint album). YG compliments it well by rapping almost with a fear of how successful he’s become, as if it will all catch up to him (“ayy, damn this beat got bass/everything that’s bad for me right here in my face/I been on the fo’ block, I been on the A/gun up on my waist like I’m tryna catch a case”). ‘Deeper Than Rap’ has a gnarly beat produced by Lil Rich with twangy plucked strings and a squealing air-horn synth over the top. YG almost cries out the hook in terror as the synths rise, and he comes through with some of his better verses – when he starts his final verse “I got a daughter now/I’m barely around” you can feel the guilt in his dropped cadence. After Still Brazy, we were expecting more of these tracks – rife with the stress, confusion and aggression that comes with suddenly becoming a big deal.

This is still a pleasurable album. It’ll sound great blaring through your car speakers late at night and YG’s hooks are catchy enough that you’ll find yourself smarmily mouthing them to yourself if you’re listening in headphones. It only feels like we’ve come to expect a bit more from the Compton native. Maybe that’s wrong. After all, he was never meant to blow up in the first place.

7.0