


Though his music isn't as emotionally raw as Boosie's, both rappers engage the listener on a purely visceral level, primarily through deliveries that seem on the verge of careening off the rails. Meek still carries an air of detached cool that is no doubt filtered down from Jay-Z, but the rapper that he often resembles is the currently imprisoned Lil' Boosie. But we're a long way from 2002, and there's a distinctly Southern bent to his rapping that has helped him rise to prominence during the reign of Lex Luger. But Ross' most intriguing protégé is the young (though by no means rookie) Philadelphia street rapper Meek Mill, a fact not lost on Ross, who saw fit to include himself on both of Meek's radio singles from this year.īeing from Philly, it's easy to see the lineage of ex-Roc-A-Fella underlings State Property in Meek's excitable, eager shout. Wale, who was left for dead by the major label system following his disastrous first album, was scooped up by Ross after a rather pedestrian appearance on Waka Flocka Flame's smash hit "No Hands" and is now poised to sell hundreds of thousands of copies of his upcoming album. That Ross emerged from the embarrassing fracas to become one of the few larger-than-life stars in the game was shocking enough, but now his stamp of approval alone is enough to make, or salvage, careers. Imagine that being true in 2009, when, after being outed as an ex-corrections officer, Ross got roped into a childish feud with 50 Cent, who rediscovered his ability to ruffle the feathers of his overly serious peers, while blogs and commenters gleefully cackled along. Here's the biggest surprise in rap this year: Its preeminent tastemaker is Rick Ross.
