Harlem rapper Smoke DZA’s Not for Sale is a memorandum for culture vultures, those outsiders who, in his mind, are trying to pollute rap, and those industry insiders trying to sap its swagger for their own personal gain. DZA is a classicist, and he derides those in the game selling out, all while listing off the things money can’t buy them—the love, smoothness, the culture, the cool. If 2016’s Don’t Smoke Rock with Bronx legend and rap super-producer Pete Rock was DZA’s taking a stand in deed, aligning himself with a cultural icon, then this is him writing new bylaws. These are DZA’s 12 rap commandments, in which he extols the mid-grade hustler.
DZA’s rap philosophy is to always err on the side of caution. This can make him a bit of a conservative music-maker, but it also makes him relatively dependable. He presents a lifestyle of subtle comfort and his verses are capo proverbs rapped through kush clouds. He presents himself as rap’s Most Interesting Man, saying things like, “Heavy is the head that wears the crown; imagine how my wrist feel.” He isn’t that interesting, and his writing can underservice his workmanlike flow, but his raps are always appealingly aspirational. He’s the hood everyman turned Super Fly. “Smoking on Cheeba, sipping on Chevas/I’m in the old school, center of Portland like Arvydas/Them niggas tryna style, I’m like beat it/It’s Bob Marley on my chain, not Jesus,” he raps on “The High.” He has largely remained consistent, if not stagnant, since 2010’s George Kush Da Button, occupying the same realm of scotches, cigars, indica blends, and Raf Simons Adidas.
Not for Sale stays true to DZA’s formula but opens the aperture just a bit wider. He doesn’t have the most distinct perspective, so he compensates by building his persona. On “The Love,” his better half is presented as a reflection of himself; her taste enhancing his, which is, in a clever way, another proposed demonstration of his discerning nature. “Connoisseur, mature, Dior type of fly/Comador cigars, Macallan with no ice/No gettin’ sauce, endorse a ratchet TV night/Laugh, experience life, we too young to be angry and hype/We ain’t perfect but our future is bright/And even imperfection is perfection in sight,” he raps.
Despite his confidence, DZA isn’t exactly introducing novel sounds or ideas on Not for Sale, but that doesn’t mean it can’t still be fun to hear him navigate New York City with fresh eyes. Half the charm of this record is simply how comfortable DZA seems, even as he fights off rap profiteers and extortionists. He’s never been (and won’t ever be) a rapper par excellence, and that’s kind of the point: He’s settled into his own underdog niche. DZA positions himself as a dark horse, the unassuming alternative to outright primacy, and his nonchalance makes it that much more endearing.
DZA’s constant commitment to cool is upholstered by his ear for luxurious beats. “The High” samples Erykah Badu “Didn’t Cha Know,” in a flip that sounds eerily like J. Cole’s “Too Deep for the Intro,” but the bass is far more warped, and his flows tumble directly into the knock of the drum as a disembodied Badu wails from within. “The Mood” invokes Scarface’s “Guess Who’s Back,” repurposing the same intro from the Originals’ shimmering “Sunrise,” as DZA and Joey Bada$$ take turns repping their boroughs. From the decompressed doo-wop of “The Legacy” to the Boi-1da-lite of “The Game” and “The Antidote,” scanning boom bap and trap drums, Smoke DZA always manages to find his sweet spot.
In a rap age of larger-than-life excess, where even the most basic rappers are Leo DiCaprio playing Jordan Belfort, an image that lends itself to surreality, Smoke DZA’s boasts are accessible, manageable even. He doesn’t want things to look too easy because they weren’t—he likes to show his work—or too exaggerated because it can cheapen that labor. There aren’t any Teslas racing through these raps; he’s got an unlimited line of credit at… Ikea. In this vein, “The Hustle” is a DZA manifesto of sorts, where he reaffirms his dedication to the cash grab that is capitalism and chastises those unwilling to work for theirs. Money is his primary motivator, but he’s nearly as driven to defend rap from those who would misuse it.
