Rick Ross
Port of Miami

Slip-N-Slide / Def Jam 2006

Yeah, yeah, we’re late on it. It’s an afterthought. This shit is embarrassing.

Punch in Rick Ross on Wikipedia - Why? Why not? - and two appear. The one who didn’t sell a million ringtones of “Hustlin’” is an anti-cult lecturer - and Port of Miami is as solid a caution-tale as Koresh’s Waco or a non-Capo Jim Jones’ cherry Kool-Aid. Defenders sound like wiki wiki. Its first week tallied a shameful 187,000 and the disc dripped off the Billboard Top 10 in 21 days.

And Jay-Z needs to rush that comeback, because a leather-chair-backed allotter of millions he is not, unless their Brewster’s.

For a rapper that’s been seriously lamping on the industry’s dime for the last four months, a lot of business basics are working against Ross.

Port of Miami ’s cover design is made for dollar-bins, as it’s not imposing (which Ross does naturally), memorable or communicative. Look at him, asleep at the golden wheel. This is a missed opportunity, and cheaply executed at that. No rap album cover has captured Miami properly sans 1989’s As Nasty as They Wanna Be. His Sam Madison jersey on 2001’s Thugs are Us notwithstanding, Trick Daddy chooses covers that are aesthetically universal, but that works for him. Trick is universal. Not his label-mate Ross. If Miami is in the title and you’re black (Pitbull peruses the Cuban flag), corner it.

Unlike Clipse, Ross is seemingly a drug dealer first and a rapper somewhere under the couch cushion, like a seed. Moreover, a portly dude draws immediate comparisons to Biggie and, unfortunately, Ross’ overall lyrical ability trails yesteryear’s impossibly shameless clown Gorilla Black. Also, Suge Knight probably wants his beard back. Those 300 pounds make for an easy pugilist comparison, as Ross is smart to play it slow with brute force, but his dependability on one inevitable knockout single courtesy of Orlando’s question mark glamour shots, the Runners, makes his long-player play dumber than the short bus.

The S.W.A.T. theme stream of “I’m Bad” is a perfect example. How old are you, five? You don’t pair up a slow-moving dude with a heavily active jingle like that, unless it’s an off-the-cuff freestyle. Ross stumbles all over this novelty beat, one a pro of pause like Juelz would slay all day.

In the end, can Miami cease going ape-shit over aimless releases like Port of Miami and the 2006 Miami Vice simply because its name is plastered on promotional materials? It’s a whore for a wink and the comedown is almost more telltale than examples filed under sports-over-education.

-Hunter Stephenson