The Florida rapper faces off with himself on a hilariously animated new tape, ping-ponging between high and low voices over groovy Florida-via-Michigan beats.
730turk is a real wild style rapper. Thirty years ago, he’d have been a No Limit soldier Master P took a flyer on, complete with a minor role in P’s crime comedy I Got the Hook-Up and an upcoming record previewed in the CD booklet of Ghetto D. In our modern times, life for the thirtysomething Orlando rapper looks more like trying to go viral one performance clip at a time, jigsawing his life back together after a pair of five-year bids in state and federal prison. He’s got a better shot than most, thanks to his signature trick: ping-ponging between high and low voices like his multiple personalities are wrestling for the mic. Some of the greatest rappers have used this sort of drama as a tasteful garnish—Nicki Minaj turning into Roman Zolanski, Biggie talking to Pop from the barbershop—but for 730turk, it’s the whole plate.
Pound-for-pound, nobody is rapping like him across his new tape, Trapculinary vol. 2 (the recipe). This is alive, three-dimensional rap; repeat listens reveal a tight control through the chaos, oblong bars fitting together like Tetris blocks. And in 2026, when vertical-video algorithms favor craziest-thought-best-thought raps and the rising New York rapper of the moment is a Kodak Black acolyte, it could be for everyone. There’s such careful consideration around phrasing and delivery, like on “Fish Grease,” when he intersperses yelped lines between a rambly Juvi flow, fashioning a call and response with himself. His vision and precision evoke the mesmerizing leaked studio session for “With That” where Young Thug starts spitting free-associative bars around mumbled vocal phrasing, then proceeds to repeat each line over and over again until he lands on the perfect enunciation.
730turk is also straight-up hilarious, a lightning rod of an MC whose charisma is as uncontainable as his vocal range. He talks about the dopeboy lifestyle and the girls he’s wooing with the energy of the Incredible Hulk. The shadow of Florida hitmaker Bossman Dlow’s get-a-bag raps looms large, but Turk’s more adventurous and descriptive. Rich detail pokes out on repeat listens: “Nigga I was raised… by a fuckin’ pimp, hooker and a hustler,” he barks on “richest rapper.” He’s got herky-jerk, Manu Ginóbili-type timing: the way he snarls, “Eating lobster with a bitch” (big emphasis on “with” for some reason), the ad-libs on “knocked off” in a vocal register at least two octaves below the verse. Almost none of it translates on paper, but trust me, “Back against the wall, I had to learn how to box ouuutt!” (squealed like he’s in pain) will get stuck in your head too.
The production throughout smacks: groovy Florida-via-Michigan fare that places Turk in conversation with 2020s lodestars like Sada Baby and Rio Da Yung OG, part of the beautiful latticework of cultural connections between Florida, Louisiana, Michigan, and the Bay. Emphasis on Florida, though: That Plies/T-Pain flip on “might be” couldn’t have come from anywhere else. At this point, another critic might say something like, “It could use a little more variety, especially since Turk’s schtick starts to wear thin by the end of one sitting,” but rockism be damned; this is a no-frills, rapping-ass spectacle, a speaker-busting showcase of the power and range of 730turk’s voice. Master P, if you’re reading this, you’ve got three months to book him for the Florida dates of the No Limit / Cash Money reunion tour.
