

It’s full of thugs…I tried to sing the shit to Ne-Yo, but it didn’t come out right’.” He laughed that smoker’s laugh before playing “Leave It Alone,” the kind of smooth hit that radio station PDs eat up. He recalled a conversation he had with Ne-Yo, leading up to their collaboration: “I said, ‘Yo, I got this idea ’cause I’m trying to get the chicks in my show.

In this context, the standouts come when Jeezy steps out of his own shadow, attempting crossovers, softening his fire-scorched voice. Jeezy makes a reference to having a “dirty white bitch, Kat Stacks.” Kat Stacks is Venezuelan, but whatever. (Four of the songs played last night probably wouldn’t be able to be picked out of a police lineup.) The best of these is the perfectly lurching “Smoke & Fuck.” (Jeezy, explaining the song, said it was about “smoking and fucking.”) In “OJ,” a cocaine-flow fantasia, he brags about “killing that white bitch,” with Fabolous and Jadakiss each joining the powder melee. Throughout the album’s fourteen tracks, Jeezy hits that nail repeatedly so often, in fact, that it can be rendered unremarkable. Jeezy makes a specific type of record very well: the soundtrack to a club fight. Once friendly, they’re now, well, not.) This sets the tone for the album, a whirlpool of aggression, unsurprising if solid.

Ripley-ed Young Jeezy in the past two years, becoming a superstar in the process. (Ross has quickly and effectively Talented Mr. He reintroduces himself, saying, “the one you been waiting on…one of niggas talking this real shit,” not-so-veiled shots in Rick Ross’ direction. The oh-so-appropriately titled opening track “Waiting” bursts with operatic swoons, big drums and bigger bass, as Jeezy not-so-gently attempts to take back his spot. When asked what happened to “Shake Life,” he shrugged, his voice more gravelly than usual: “It’s just one of those things, man.” An official tracklisting, released six weeks ago through Jeezy’s Twitter, is unrecognizable from the album today. Three other songs have been released to radio since none will make the final master. The album’s lead single, “Lose My Mind,” a wall-puncher with Plies, hit the streets over eighteen months ago. TM103, his fourth album but the third in a series, has been less pushed-back than shoved, a tortured process of try-try-againing. It was a friendly atmosphere, and Jeezy seemed in a good mood, despite the journey: “It took a little time, but more on that later.” He laughed, everyone laughed, though it wasn’t really a joke. Def Jam staffers greeted writers, and Irv Gotti (who is very publicly lobbying to be president of the label) walked in with a winter cap and a smile, shook hands and then left. The room was small, dark and smelled vaguely of vanilla-scented candles. Young Jeezy walked into the lounge of Quad Studios in Manhattan, the black-on-black cover to his new album TM103: Hustlaz Ambition (out December 20th) posted on an easel in the corner, low key.
