Album Review: Pretty Girlz Run the World by Loe Shimmy
The South Florida rapper dedicates an album to women and grades them like merchandise.
There have been rappers singing hooks on their songs about women coming out of South Florida for a couple of years now, and the guys who made it through the lane did so on the Canadian’s “I’m Spent” in spring, then quickly jumped back into the studio. According to The FADER, the title of this album had been lying in an old verse of Loe Shimmy’s, and he simply brought it up during one of the sessions last fall, saying to his boys and his engineer the tape should be called Pretty Girlz Run the World and dedicate this one to the girls. In the songs, he steals his praises from a car lot.
He calls a woman “no mileage” on one track, and on “Body Dangerous” says she has good maintenance and a face pretty enough to be framed on the wall, which sounds nice to hear about any painting. On “Top Notch,” she rates five stars, and in the very same song, he mentions she did not like her body, so he paid to fix it, right in a song about the private room at Carbone and another round of shots. The pretty privilege she grants him on “Run the World” is a quality that costs him a hundred racks on a new Mercedes, which is described a little bit better. Recruiting her off nobody’s team on “Seduce You” requires covering the hair and the nails, as well as handing over 100K until her wrist starts dancing like Mike Jack’. He goes through AMG, Guatemala, an Hermès alligator and a Panamera on “Too Exotic” until he gets to the ring.
Sexyy Red takes the third verse of “5 Star Freak” and rates herself. She’s off the drank and mugging women in the club, keeping a glove because one man had once thought he would get it without one, and she rather pays a man than needs one. None of his own lines about a woman come that close. Summer Walker takes the second verse on “Just Saying” and responds bluntly to his Phantom rides and Hamptons weekends. She says she is needy when she is faded, she is out of patience, she wants to taste it before she takes it, and that she will tell him to come back as soon as he leaves. He offers her Disney World, and she responds with what she is going to do to him.
The confession on “I Bleed Too” is that he has been “every man but one you need me to,” and he swears over his own cold heart that he believes her anyway. He asks to be left with just her half, calling it all he is asking for, and recalling how he looked into her eyes for the first time and saw two people living one life. Even the mileage comes up again: keep yours low; you’re more my speed, said to a woman he begs not to leave.
Somewhere between 200 on the dash and a twenty ball thrown in Booby, he says he does not care to be alive anymore. The bar after that is about not giving up until they win, then about overthinking every single night, then about the Chrome Heart belt with the buckle that costs a ten. He insists that this is “Not a Love Song,” then asks in the verse whether she can save him and make him happy despite his soul being gone. On “What Is Love,” he says he takes drugs every day to cover up his feelings and that he has a deal with the devil, and by the hook, he is back on the ice and the red light. Calling this a hidden layer would be a huge exaggeration. He puts these lines in the place where the boasts usually go.
Listing the days of the week earns him a hook on “Everyday,” and around that, he is at the same private party, with the same switch in case somebody thinks it is sweet, mixing the same purp with molly. He asks what she came for on “What You Came For” and responds with a dirty thirty and a friend of hers who might also want it. He has a real concept on “Soul Taker,” a woman who turns into a demon at night, and then dresses her in Celine head to toe and asks her to give a performance. On “Poking Out the Gown,” he makes it even farther, mentioning Aspen, lobster tail, and a lounge he might open. The only thing differentiating the four is the brand he names.
She tells him he is broke inside on “Bad at Moving On,” and when he asks how she can tell, she has an answer ready: “’Cause you keep on taking drugs like you ain’t healed yet.” These two lines are the best writing on the song, and they are hers. The rest of the song is Colombian cocaine, Addys, molly, painkillers, shrooms over days, a high-speed chase in the Hellcat, and a hook about being bad at moving on, the only claim in it he makes without money backing it. He gets closer to it twice more, on “Aruba,” admitting that this life and this ice came with more than anyone could have told him, and on “Pretty Brown,” where he sheds a tear every time he smokes, and she looks at his scars.
A Rolex she bought herself appears on “Birthday,” along with her own bag and a tone he can hear the boss in. She was born on some day he cannot remember, so he simply decides every day is her birthday, and then he tells her he is proud of her. Later, they are at the strip, and she brings the strippers back home. He should write more verses where the woman already has the money.
Solid (★★★½☆)
Favorite Track(s): “I Bleed Too,” “Bad at Moving On,” “Birthday”