I honestly couldn’t tell you why I hit play on this album. I was not a fan of Brent before, except Crew because he’s pretty much the only reason to listen to that song. I think some of the homies had recommended it over and over so I finally said fuck it. I’m pretty glad I did because this album is not that bad. It’s not anything life changing or anything, but it’s good. That’s like all I need to say about the album to be honest. I’m sure if you one of those fake artsy niggas that pretends to like Solange and Kelela to flirt with girls you immediately went to genius to lipsync these tracks in your Instagram story (which is an entirely different convo.) Or if you like Brent’s sleepy but still beautiful vocals over very laid back instrumentals, like me. Well, if you’re like that second one you’re in for a treat because that’s about all you get. Brent keeps that same level of energy for all twenty-six minutes of this album. Good god. The songs start to blend together and I can’t quite place if that’s good or not. Brent’s voice isn’t annoying so I give it a pass I guess. Also, niggas call Future a womanizer and shit, but take one look at these lyrics and you might want to add Brent to that list as well. The entire song Rehab (Winter In Paris) is him talking about how he fucks with this one drug addict girl because she gives really good head, but he still fucks other girls. He can’t leave her alone even though he’s fucking other girls all day, shit is wild to say the least. The lyrics are filled with Brent dealing with love, depression, and an overall lack of trust due to his fame and past experiences too. Put those topics, with these beats, and Brent’s trademark crooning and you got yourself an okay album. An okay album that boils down to “I be fucking, and I’m sad about it.”

Listen to Fuck The World

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