"Back from the dead." Delivered by Pimp C, these are among the first words you hear on UGK 4 Life, and unfortunately, it's a sentiment delivered way less metaphorically than we're used to. Lives are cut short with a sad frequency in hip-hop, but Pimp C's early death was something of an anomaly: too often, ascendant talents are snuffed out before we get a full glimpse of their capabilities. But by 2007, UGK had become something like Houston's answer to Gang Starr, a partnership that thrived on consistency and longevity while their peer groups either broke up, soldiered on in an unknowable format, or just fell the fuck off completely (I'm looking at you 8Ball & MJG).
So, yeah-- UGK 4 Life doesn't dwell a whole lot on what the future holds in large part because it's so steeped in the craft they took years to perfect. Though it lacks something as jump-off-the-screen as "Int'l Players Anthem" and the feel-good momentousness of a #1 debut on Billboard, it also lacks double-album stuffing filler. Though probably not the best UGK album, it might be the strongest illustration of what they do best. As with most of their material, the vast majority of the UGK 4 Life's action takes place behind a woodgrain wheel, in the vicinity of a pistol, or inside various female orifices, with only the incredibly ill-advised Akon spot about erectile function ("Hard as Hell") to fuck up the flow. Of course, there are still plenty State of the Streets sermons, as "Purse Come First" makes the latent political awareness in Bun B's raps come to the forefront ("it's a new world order, at least that's what I read"). But even if Pimp C opened up about his image ("I look like this, I don't talk it/ I make 'em think I'm dumb"), he still ended his verse with a blowjob joke.
While UGK's albums have always delivered, I never quite shared the opinion that they're godbody MC's. For me, there's not enough clever wordplay and not enough detailed storytelling-- basically that whole East Coast bias bullshit. But maybe due to the proliferation of Kanye-jacking newbies who used to rap and now wanna sing, I've come to appreciate UGK as having two of the best voices in hip-hop. It's a dynamic that's been explored over-and-over-- the deeper, more methodical cadence balancing out the nasal loose cannon. Bun B's performance is a masterwork of nuance here, sounding doubled even when it's obvious he's not. His oaken, sturdy intonations give authority to anything he's saying, whether introspective ("The Pimp and the Bun") or just stuck on the same ol' bullshit (just about everything else). As for Pimp C, it's easy to point out that nearly all of his metaphors on this record are food-based and related to him getting his dick sucked, but he remains untouched in terms of delivering hooks and his mere accent can still be the highlight of any track. Just check "She Luv It" for the incomprehensible pronunciation of "barbecue rib," wherein the former word has fewer syllables than the latter, or the entirety of "Everybody Wanna Ball", where he takes an obvious line and flips into a spirited performance on his own terms.
There's also a nice "Eh, why not?" feel to the guest list: there's Akon, Ronald Isley, B-Legit, and E-40, but also Snoop and Too $hort (guess what the song they're on is about) and even commercial non-starters like Big Gipp. The common thread through all of them here is that they're all on UGK territory, and they don't get beats so much as music, steaming organ trills and wah-wah guitar filling out the backdrop and rendering even the most smutty material sultry. The delightfully nasty "She Luv It" could even be a hit if it didn't begin with Pimp C trying "to fit [my] whole dick and nuts inside your mooooouth" and end with his advice on female grooming. Same for "Harry Asshole", which raises the question of how it could be filthier than its title and answers with "feat. Lil' Boosie and Webbie."
Is it weird for UGK 4 Life to make pretty much no mention whatsoever of the fact that half of the rapping is done by someone who died a year and a half before its release? A little-- Sleepy Brown gets himself off the milk carton to propose a toast to Pimp during the ice-grilled rumination of "Swishas & Erb" (possibly a nod to OutKast's similar-sounding "Crumblin' Erb"), and only then do you realize it's the only Bun B solo performance on the whole thing. But UGK never seemed like the type to buy into a whole lot of self-mythologizing, maudlin or otherwise. You'd expect something of that sort from the penultimate "Da Game Been Good to Me", but instead it might as well be subtitled "But Not to You", as Pimp and Bun talk down rappers who failed to respect the game like they did. It makes sense: As long as there's grain to be gripped, lanes to be switched, and, for better or worse, way too many words that rhyme with "bitch," UGK's music remains timeless in its own way.
