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The best way to describe Cadaver’s style would be as a hybrid-rapper of Blackalicious and 50 Cent, not to mention a touch of the smooth and heavy styling of Mr. Tupac Shakur thrown in for proper measure. Angry where he needs to be, smooth player in between, Cadaver’s search for solid artistry does not include an insistence that he needs hard core street cred just to make clear the inflexibility of everyday life.

Most of the tracks Cadaver has written for his first release follow the formula for what most rap albums claim, without being fantastic or overly exaggerated, rappin’ about one’s power, violence, weed, bling, and sex. Of course Cadaver tweaks it to fit his style, building a more fun type of method where rhymes don’t necessarily need the pretense of gang related violence to ascertain the angst of growing-up poor in an angry world based upon social class; even love gets mention when this man has something important to say.

The first thing that hits you about the songs is their intelligent design, from the metallic echo of his deep styling to the son-of-Nirvana charge that his boy and fellow instigator Nick B bring to these rhymes; lets fucking do this, is the feel Cadaver carries through with fighting determination. It’s everything from the hell-bent revolutionary zeal that moves, to the longing for true understanding that makes Cadaver the lion in the lamb’s cage.


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