Not gonna lie… I’m always nervous whenever I listen to Shyne’s music. While I secretly hope that the Bad Boy, “shoot the club up” version would make a return to my eardrums I always know that we’ll end up with this… thing instead. I mean, remember when we all heard that Shyne would make a return to music the first time since being deported? That was a level of excitement I’d not felt since, say, Hell Hath No Fury by Clipse (half of which, coincidentally, is on this song). When I finally heard “new Shyne” on wax, however, it was akin to your wife walking up to you at the funeral of your mother to say that she had been sleeping with and gotten pregnant by your best friend. In other words, my heart couldn’t take it.
I’ve gotten used to Shyne’s new voice these days, and I’ve already accepted and acknowledged that “old Shyne” is now a thing of the past. however, this track – to me, and I do not want to come across as condescending at all (I always feel the need to say that in an attempt to not ruffle rappers’ feathers these days, but that tale is for another time) – sounds like it’s a reference song for Rick Ross (I’m aware of the irony), and it makes me want to dig out Shyne’s eponymous debut from whatever shelf it’s buried in, listen and think of the times when Puffy was twisting out Jennifer Lopez, computers still came with floppy disk drives and rap was a highly lucrative business.
Come back, old Shyne. The game needs you.