This album isn't as good as All Eyez On Me, but it is better than The 7 Day Theory: The Don Killumati if it's spelled like that.

Months before 50 Cent burst into the mainstream with Get Rich or Die Tryin', his "In da Club"-highlighted debut for Shady/Aftermath, the highly touted rapper cleaned out his closet with Guess Who's Back?. The skimpily packaged album, released by the indie label Full Clip and documented by no credits whatsoever, compiles what it terms as "underground classics & freestyles." Unless you're connected to the New York mixtape circuit or happen to own a bootlegged version of 50's unreleased 2000 debut album for Columbia, the Trackmasters-produced Power of the Dollar, none of the 18 songs here are going to be familiar -- they're all previously unreleased, legally that is. However, if you're indeed down with the underground, either via the streets of N.Y.C. or the bandwidth of cyberspace, many of these songs will be familiar. About half come from Power of the Dollar, including such highlights as "Life's on the Line," "Ghetto Qua Ran," and "As the World Turns," while the others, such as "That's What's Up" (a G Unit posse track over the beat to Wu-Tang's "Ya'll Been Warned"), "Too Hot," and "Who U Rep With" (the latter two featuring Nas, who is sampled for the hook to "F*ck You" also), come mostly from mixtapes. A few of the inclusions suffer from shoddy sound quality, particularly the trio of freestyles that close the album, while a few others sound like mixtape tracks, lacking commercially orientated production and verse-chorus-verse structures. It's this occasional underground sense, though, that makes Guess Who's Back? such a worthwhile listen for fans. Granted, this album isn't an authentic N.Y.C.-style mixtape, but it's awfully close, definitely modeled after one and therefore representative of precisely why 50 went on to become the most talked-about upcoming rapper in a decade. There's a reason a million-dollar bidding war broke out for 50 in 2002, and Guess Who's Back? showcases that reason better than any other legal release out there. Before 50 was "In da Club" with Eminem and Dr. Dre, he was here, releasing a plethora of mixtape tracks for the underground with hopes of one day getting rich or dying trying.

Just as rap music was reaching its toughest, darkest, grimmest period yet, following the assassinations of 2Pac and Biggie in the late '90s, along came DMX and his fellow Ruff Ryders, who embodied the essence of inner-city machismo to a tee, as showcased throughout the tellingly titled It's Dark and Hell Is Hot. Unlike so many other hardcore rappers who are more rhetorical than physical, DMX commands an aggressive aura without even speaking a word. He showcases his chiseled physique on the arresting album cover and trumpets his animalistic nature with frequent barking, growling, and snarling throughout the album. He furthermore collaborates with muscular producers Swizz Beatz and Dame Grease, who specialize in slamming synth-driven beats rather than sample-driven ones. Further unlike so many other hardcore rappers from the time, DMX is meaningful as well as symbolic. He professes an ideology that stresses the inner world — characterized by such qualities as survival, wisdom, strength, respect, and faith — rather than the material one that infatuates most rappers. It helped, of course, that his album includes a few mammoth highlights ("Ruff Ryders' Anthem," "Get at Me Dog," "Let Me Fly," and "I Can Feel It") as well as a light, mid-album diversion ("How's It Goin' Down"). In '98 DMX was the best rookie MC since Jay-Z in '96. The real only downfall is the running length of It's Dark and Hell Is Hot. Even so, it's DMX's most essential album.

Within a year of rapping for the first time, Dr. Dre took notice and was compelled to offer an Aftermath contract. The Game is also from Compton, just like his mentor, so guess where the allegiances fall? An N.W.A medallion hangs from his neck, an N.W.A logo is inked across his chest, and an image of the late Eazy-E is on his right forearm. If none of this makes it clear enough, the Game name drops beloved heroes -- including just about everyone ever connected to N.W.A, save for CPO -- with great frequency. The stage name, coined by his mother while he was an athletic youngster, is entirely fitting: verses are constructed with album titles, label heads are mentioned as if scholarly attention is paid to the industry's inner workings. And yet, this is hardly another Guerilla Black, an MC lacking originality. The Game's scope is obviously much wider, and he's no mimic; though he's still finding his feet as a lyricist, isn't as distinct vocally as 50 or Lloyd Banks, and nearly allows the gimmicks to overwhelm the skills. Though not topping "Get Rich or Die Trying", The Documentary is an excellent debut that also hints at a lot of potential. This is in fact the second best G-Unit album. Dr. Dre and an all-star cast of fellow producers are in top form, Just Blaze, Timbaland, Kanye West, and Hi-Tek included, and none of the features steal any thunder from the star. The most remarkable aspect of the Game is how he can be such a blatant product of gangsta rap (okay, let's say fanboy) and leave a mark so fast. But, as he says in "Dreams," "Anything is possible if 50 f*cked Vivica."

It would be easy to read too much into the title of Lil Wayne's fourth album, especially in light of a mixtape (cunningly titled The Prefix) that preceded this, which featured the MC over a handful of tracks off Shawn "Jay-Z" Carter's Black Album. The title actually refers to Lil Wayne's actual last name (hint: it isn't Wayne), in addition to referencing the apartments run by Wesley Snipes' character in New Jack City. Although much has been made about Wayne's growth and new world view, there's about as much change as you'd expect from a Southern rap star who has been in the public eye from his late teens to his twenties. Mannie Fresh's stout production is in effect as ever, and to the MC's credit, the rhymes are less measured and are all the better for it. To beat that dead horse one more time, the album is far too long and not concerned enough with the quality control, despite including more than enough bright spots to keep the followers following. Yes it is too long, but Cash Money has always been known for having the blueprint of quantity over quality. Yeah he has become more lyrical but he isn't the "best rapper alive since the best rapper retired" as he says, but this shows that he has the talent to be.