As Jay-Z once said, "Men lie, women lie, numbers don't." Apparently, that memo never reached Cam'ron and Vado, whose latest joint mixtape, Boss of All Bosses 3, is actually their fifth entry in an increasingly tired series. (It follows Boss of All Bosses 1, 2, 2.5, and 2.8.) Diehard Dipset fans might turn up a few tracks here where the light of Cam's Purple Haze-era peak still flickers, but Vado, once New York's next great hope, appears so rarely that the collaborative billing feels a little misleading.
Boss of All Bosses 3 is symptomatic of the current era where only a handful of rappers can get albums in stores and on time. Rappers like Cam and Vado need to flood the market to keep their names on the blogs' front page, but they also have to hope that the inherent diminishing returns of a seemingly endless mixtape series don't permanently turn off listeners. Vado should be keeping up with guys like A$AP Rocky and French Montana who have more or less assumed his buzz and replaced him in the food chain that decides which rappers might actually get to put out a real life album or take a little bit of radio airtime away from Young Money. Cam, on the other hand, is presumably looking to convince label execs that he's still a relevant artist worth an investment, a proposition that stands to lead, at best, to a internet rumors.
For listeners, a tape like this begs the question: When is enough enough? At this point, new Dipset just sounds like old Dipset, and old Dipset is way more kinetic. The production here recalls the blustery symphonies of their heyday, but Cam's disengaged flow, which once felt like the epitome of cockiness, no longer sounds hungry. He still cracks a few good lines and drops the occasional sideways reference, but the Cam of "sake, Suzuki, Osaka Bay" is far in the rearview.
A few tracks fare better than others: "Keys in tha Damier" isn't too far from the sample-driven bangers of Dipset yesteryear, and "Talk My Nigga" has the fiercest rapping on the tape despite both rappers jacking their cadence from Crazy Town's "Butterfly". But the appeal of these tracks isn't likely to resonate with non-diehards.
There's so much invigorating rap coming out of New York (and elsewhere) right now, but Boss of All Bosses 3 isn't exactly among the most inspiring. There's no harm in plucking out a few dope tracks for a playlist, but there's so much more heat, spirit, and conviction in the back catalog. Isn't it about time you broke out disc two of Diplomatic Immunity?
