To succeed in rap in 2015, you have to be good with the Internet—or prolifically bad, at bare minimum. It helps if you can meme-ify your personal brand, through Vine dance sensation or hashtaggable one-liner. The West Detroit supergroup Doughboyz Cashout, meanwhile, have not used their Twitter account in nearly two years. They don't have a Wikipedia page. They're signed to Jeezy's CTE World imprint, but haven't released an official single on the label since 2013's "Mob Life" remix, to say nothing of a full-length project. But the Doughboyz—whose membership has ranged from four to eight members since the group's 2006 inception—are currently the biggest street rappers in Detroit, and the best rap group in the Midwest.
Doughboyz' latest, BYLUG World (short for "Boss Yo Life Up Gang"), is a relatively minor release in the group's nearly decade-long career. It's not as consistent as last year's excellent We Run The City 4 tape, and lacks the immediate hits of 2012's Free Roc, their best work. There's nothing resembling a crossover play in the vein of "My Young Niggaz", a DJ Mustard-produced collaboration with Jeezy and YG; in fact, label boss Jeezy shows up exactly zero times here. But for longtime fans and those nostalgic for turn-of-the-century Cash Money and No Limit, there's a lot to love.
To the uninitiated, BYLUG World may sound anachronistic: the stabby piano, the rubber-band bass, and bounce are pure Mannie Fresh worship. Most of BYLUG World's production is handled by Payroll Giovanni, who doubles as Doughboyz' most popular solo rapper; you can hear the eerie ricochet of Fresh in most of his tracks here, from menacing opener "BYLUG Baby" to the stripped-down murder piano of "OVL". But like Fresh's best work, the production leaps out while providing space for the tape's rotating cast of rappers. And ultimately, storytelling is at the heart of Doughboyz' appeal. BYLUG's sole time-stamped moment, "Netflix", should be a goofy throwaway about Netflix and chill, but its novelty is redeemed by Payroll's deft but unshowy bars: "She was intimidated when I pulled up, for example/ She couldn't find the coupe door handles."
The tape's blunt edges are softened by the occasional warbling melody from Clay Baby—the closest thing Detroit has to a Nate Dogg, who delivers the tape's best hook on "Fell Off"—and a handful of smooth, contemplative synth-scapes from former Taylor Gang producer Cardo. On YG-featuring "Day Ones", he evokes a screwed-up, waterlogged AraabMuzik, and on his G-funk-leaning "Street Heaven", Payroll offers a coolly specific narrative that recalls Curren$y: "Meanwhile, I'm cracking smiles at Mr. Chow's/ Out in Cali, would I like another drink?/ Yes, gladly." But the celebration is shaded by struggle and countered with knowing paranoia: "Lately I been having dreams of trucks and 7s/ And nightmares of the Feds wanting me in their possession." This tightrope walk of aspiration and consequence is the Doughboyz' formula stripped down to its essence. Even at its core, it hits as hard as ever.
