By: John Engelmann
Rating: 7/11

Buckshot. Smif-N-Wessun. Heltah Skeltah. Originoo Gunn Clappaz. Put these four rap groups from Brooklyn into one huge supergroup, and you've got Boot Camp Clik. Inevitably such a populous ensemble will have quite a bit of variety, in tempo, in DJ quality, in voice types, in gimmicks (or lack thereof), in frequency of using certain impolite words, but the group is united by its commitment to the themes of gangsta rap and performance.

Crude but clever rhymes self-righteously expound on drugs, profanity, and the almighty bullet. Raps resound over the beat with fashionably-late timing. "DIRT" features an intruigingly low, growling voice and especially dramatic inflections which enhance the listening experience. "Don't Ya Dare Laugh Remix" talks about police corruption and cannabis in California; the aptly titled "Art of Disrespeckinazation" includes the line "mistletoe in my back pocket/kiss my ass!" "Wipe Off Ya Smile" showcases a tough lady who's not afraid to put a gun to use around Crown Heights. Not all the lyrics are fresh and worthwhile: some songs seem like competitions to say as many n-words as possible, and "Get Up" could do without the now-trite "throw your hands in the air" reference.

Beats and background elements vary in quality. "Don't Ya Dare Laugh Remix" is instrumentally a turkey, with an annoying "cheap organ" loop played throughout and, at the end, dialogue that sounds like it was sampled from a Hollywood film. (The bass line in "Don't Ya Dare," however, is ace.) Winners include the danceable "Get Up," which sounds just a few metronome ticks away from the big beat of The Chemical Brothers, and "DIRT," which pounds with massive force. The mesmerizing piano intricacies of "Wipe Off Ya Smile" and analogue synth wonderland of "Art of Disrespeckinazation" make for contrasting colors in the group's crayon box.

Boot Camp Clik has more than enough variety to keep things interesting for fans of gangsta rap. Good luck keeping track of who's singing, though.