Rickyrich
OG
T.I. has been plotting his return to the fold for a minute, with The Dime Trap set to drop later this year. Given Tip's status as a Trap forefather, it stands to reason that his output will always remain rooted in the genre he professed to pioneer. Such is indeed the case on "Jefe," a Bangladeshproduced banger infused with Latin sensibilities; that's not to say that Southern roots are neglected, represented here through a staccato burst of brass.
Lyrically, both parties opt to let the credit cards do the bulk of the legwork. Such luxuries are only afforded to those atop the castle, a position Meek Mill is once again occupying. As he's quick to remind the layman, "she like Chanel, I'ma drape her in that, she want the D, I've been waiting on that." T.I. finds himself similarly surrounded by suitors, though he does prefer those with furnished apartments. "Ain't no way in hell you can fuck with us," he raps, "like a bad bitch with no furniture, I can't do nothin' with her."
