A couple weeks ago, I followed Waka Flocka around for the day, and mostly did not annoy him. One day, I will have a child (maybe), and the birth of my child will not be as momentous an occasion as the day I hung out with Waka Flocka. I don’t know if this makes me a good, loving person, but it definitely makes me the most qualified dude in the universe to write this review. Here’s my track-by-track analysis:
“Triple F Life Intro”
This starts out like one of those contemplative songs with classical music and stuff, and includes the line “Tell them haters to kiss my ass.” One thing that separates Waka from other rappers is he sounds totally at home talking about how he’s going to beat the shit out of you, or how he is about to cry.
Air Punches: 0
Hypothetical Tear Tattoos Now On My Face: 3
“Let Them Guns Blam f. Meek Mill”
Theremin! Somehow, I feel like Clara Rockmore would be super pumped that theremin showed up on a Waka Flocka record. She would also probably be super pumped that Meek Mill showed up on a Waka Flocka record, but that’s a bit more expected.
Air Punches: 7
Hypothetical Tear Tattoos Now On My Face: 0
“Round of Applause f. Drake”
Oh, Drake. I will never get enough of you, because you’re like me if I were a famous rapper. You never sound like you exactly know what you’re doing, and it’s perfect. Contains the line “Flocka, can you be my baby daddy? YES!” One time I saw Waka Flocka respond to someone on Twitter by saying that, too. I love Waka Flocka.
Air Punches: 0
Hypothetical Tear Tattoos Now On My Face: 0
Strippers whose college tuition has been inadvertently paid: ∞ (give or take)
“I Don’t Really Care f. Trey Songz”
Trey Songz sounds lost on this song, like a child who’s wandered into the woods and now has to overcompensate by pretending to know what he’s doing. This song makes me want to fight a stranger whenever Flocka hits the mic.
Air Punches: 9
Hypothetical Tear Tattoos Now On My Face: 0
“Rooster In My Rari”
Aw, Waka Flocka, you just claimed to be a male prostitute. “Rooster” is slang for “blowjobs.” He does not seem to be very psyched about getting a beej.
Air Punches: 30
Hypothetical Tear Tattoos Now On My Face: 0
Blowjobs I would give Waka Flocka: 1
“Get Low f. Flo Rida, Nicki Minaj and Tyga”
Ah, yes. Now we enter into the “ill-advised attempts at pop crossovers” section of the album. Let’s all hold hands as we endure this AS A FAMILY. This song reminds me of something I would listen to when I was 12.
Air Punches: 0
Hypothetical Tear Tattoos Now On My Face: 0
Cam’ron references in Tyga’s verse: 1
“Fist Pump f. B.o.B.”
Is it bad if this is kind of my favorite song ever? When Waka Flocka’s bodyguard told me that there was a song about going to the Jersey Shore that featured B.o.B. on the album, I was not excited to hear it. And then I had to listen to it in front of Waka Flocka, and I realized that this song was basically perfect. “Fist Pump” will be a number-seven hit on pop radio, and no one will think any worse of Flocka because of it.
Air Punches: 0
Hypothetical Tear Tattoos Now On My Face: 0
Fist Pumps: 100
“Candy Paint and Gold Teeth f. Ludacris and Bun B”
You guys, we made it! Now it’s time for a perfectly serviceable Southern Rap song featuring the ever-amazing Bun B and Ludacris, whose Foghorn Leghorn thing that he does with his voice has not diminished despite the fact that he once starred in a reality show with Tommy Lee. This is the type of music that Waka Flocka will exclusively make when he is 35.
Air Punches: 5
Hypothetical Tear Tattoos Now On My Face: 2
“Cash f. Wooh da Kid”
This song sounds like it would have fit in really well on Flockavli, Waka Flocka’s debut album, in that he yells his own name a bunch. Wooh da Kid, Flocka’s older brother, provides a nice moody face-punching counterpoint to Waka’s straight-ahead face-punching.
Air Punches: 13
Hypothetical Tear Tattoos Now On My Face: -3
“Lurkin”
Flocka is partying with Jesus, yelling random stuff, and generally going so hard that I have almost completely forgotten the abomination against sound waves that was “Get Low.”
Air Punches: A Million
Hypothetical Tear Tattoos Now On My Face: 0
“Clap”
More theremin! This is actually an old song, left over from the sporadically brilliant DuFlocka Rant mixtape, except he took Travis Porter off of this version and replaced them with himself. I just listened to both of these songs at the same time, and it was less disorienting than I thought it would be.
Air Punches: 14
Hypothetical Tear Tattoos Now On My Face: 0
“U Ain’t Bout That Life f. Slim Thugg and Alley Boy”
YOU ARE NOT ABOUT THAT FUCKING LIFE, DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT? YOU ARE NOT. ABOUT. THAT. FUCKING. LIFE. Things that are Brick Squad: knowing what the kick of a machine gun feels like, stoicism. Things that are not Brick Squad: going to the hood with bodyguards, happiness.
Air Punches: 21
Hypothetical Tear Tattoos Now On My Face: 0
Atlantas that I would not step foot in without Alley Boy’s permission: 1
“Power Of My Pen”
Ah, now for the album’s emotional denouement. Sorry this album hasn’t warranted that many Hypothetical Tear Tattoos Now On My Face yet, but this song definitely does. While listening to this song, I became contemplative, and then thought about setting a receipt that I found in my pocket on fire. I think this is the general reaction to this song that Waka was hooting for with this one.
Air Punches: 4
Hypothetical Tear Tattoos Now On My Face: 7
Receipts in my general vicinity: 0
“Flex f. Slim Dunkin, D-Bo and Travis Porter”
Even though this is yet another song about beating people up in strip clubs, it also features Slim Dunkin—a member of Flocka’s crew who was killed way, way before his time—I’m getting emotional, because Slim Dunkin was the best. He will be missed.
Air Punches: 8
Hypothetical Tear Tattoos Now On My Face: 10
“Triple F Life Outro f. Wooh da Kid”
I knew this was coming. I didn’t want to think about it, but I knew it was coming. This is, like, 3/5ths of a country song, kind of like if that Nelly/Tim McGraw song had been made just like one dude. Flocka’s not going to get invited to perform on The Voice any time soon, but when he warbles, “I wish I could fly away” at the end, it totally gets me. God Bless Waka Flocka, and god bless Triple F Life. It’s nowhere near as good as Flockavli, but few things are. It’s damn sure better than most other rap releases this year. Had this album not been sent to me for free by a publicist already, I would buy it.
Air Punches: 0
Hypothetical Tear Tattoos Now On My Face: 20 (to get this many tear tattoos, you will need to borrow a friend’s face)
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