The past five years of Drakeo the Ruler’s life are a compressed tale of pain and triumph. On his 2017 breakout Cold Devil, he emerged as an emissary of Los Angeles rap’s new wave, blanketing the city with his menacing croak and choppy flow. He spent the 10 months before that album’s release embroiled in a firearms case that put him behind bars and was a free man that November. Yet by March 2018, he was facing a separate life sentence for racist conspiracy charges filed against him and his Stinc Team affiliates. As the case dragged on for nearly three years, Drakeo continued to record and drop new music from jail while his status as an L.A. folk hero grew.
Drakeo beat the case and has been out of jail since November 2020, and he’s wasted no time capitalizing on his growing profile. Songs with fellow Los Angeles up-and-comer Blxst, current Bay Area queen Saweetie, and professional wave rider Drake materialized quickly. He’s also dropped five new full-lengths between then and now, an uncharacteristically prolific streak on the heels of his and producer JoogSZN’s excellent prison-recorded project Thank You For Using GTL. For all the good energy his freedom has brought him, Drakeo’s latest, Ain’t That the Truth, is the first of his post-prison albums to yield diminishing returns. There’s nothing particularly wrong with it—Drakeo is as brooding and entertaining as ever, for the most part—but also little to distinguish it from the other four albums he’s released in the past eight months.
Lyrically, he’s in the same headspace as he was on this February’s The Truth Hurts: Balancing his newer, more lavish lifestyle with the grislier one he’s always known. Opener “Just Dance” includes bars about disarming a perp while eating steak and lobster and drive-bys conducted in Rolls Royce sedans. On “Way Before the Fame,” he reminisces about where the L.A. district attorney claims he hid his guns before listing off his recent jewelry purchases. Obscure slang (calling a gun clip a “stiffer”) and menacing threats delivered in his trademark raspy deadpan (“Oh, that’s your friend? You don’t care, start a GoFundMe”) are Drakeo’s stock-in-trade, and there are just enough new variations to keep things from sounding rehashed.
Whenever a song leans too far toward the familiar, like “Flu Flam a Op” nearly does, Drakeo’s voice slinks through the synths and drums to find the perfect pocket to talk about a “silly op” who “wrestle shots like Vince McMahon.” Others, like “Boogieman” and penultimate track “She’s a Roller,” are vintage Drakeo to a fault, serviceable but hardly unique. Ain’t That the Truth is a 17-track, nearly hour-long release in a line of similarly lengthy recent releases, and the lesser cuts can’t help but bleed together in a sea of faceless ops and whispered chest-thumping.
A handful of guests attempt to keep the momentum steady. Drakeo’s brother and frequent collaborator Ralfy the Plug appears on five tracks, though none match the madcap menace of their recent collaborative project A Cold Day in Hell. Kentucky upstart EST Gee shines on “Tricky Ball Play,” barreling through producer Fizzle’s twinkling piano keys. California and Michigan connect again on standout “Should I Kill Him,” Drakeo and Detroit rapper Peezy feeding on each other’s paranoia as they bob and weave through producer Al B Smoov’s guitar licks. These songs crackle with personality and flair, and the album could’ve used more like them.
Drakeo the Ruler, a newly free man with more eyes on him than ever before, has earned the right to drop as much music as he wants. But, as he makes up for time lost in jail, he’s oversaturating the market and unwittingly diluting the appeal of his laid-back swagger. Ain’t That the Truth is a workmanlike album that will surely satisfy Stinc Team lifers, but Drakeo’s style isn’t conducive to the maximal release schedule of artists like Griselda or even his L.A. contemporary 03 Greedo. Sometimes, there’s value in slowing down and basking in your own image.
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