The Weekly Coos

Throughout his career, Southern Californian rapper G Perico has stayed on a consistent path delivering quality music over solid apropos West Coast productions, and that goes for moments where he gets lyrically redundant or repetitive. It’s a common trait for artists who drop many projects yearly because the energy and writtens allow them to churn projects out, like Curren$y, except Perico isn’t all idle and relaxing flows, and instead, bringing his tenaciousness to the forefront. That isn’t to say G Perico can’t unwind and convey toned-down reflections; with his latest endeavor, 7 Figures Later, we hear him keeping it narrow and straightforward in a steady direction with a balance of flows. It’s an album that doesn’t ask much of its audience except to listen. 7 Figures Later isn’t as darkly realistic as past albums, but that doesn’t mean Perico circumvents hardened reality with excess flexing, bringing some balance between the two. Unfortunately, it’s an album that succeeds more because Perico isn’t taking shortcuts; it’s the production that isn’t all captivating, rarely expanding the Jazz and Funk notes within the West Coast style – i.e G-Funk – it’s still memorable and a solid addition to his discography.

7 Figures Later is a loose concept album – it’s focused on detailing who he is, again, and his life now because the glow-up could lead some to believe G Perico is potentially selling out, but as he notes on the opening track, “Cold Run,” When ain’t nobody lookin’, that’s when I go hard/Gotta up the net worth/Up the cash flow, I put myself first/7 figures later/Couple M’s ain’t really no paper/I’m really a big player/I build shit, I’m rеally a brick layer/Shit finally takin’ off,” nothing is stopping Perico in achieving greatness. Stay independent for artistical retention in the music artists create and still try to make a blicky, but it isn’t as easy as some make it out to be, like Chance the Rapper; internet clout can help drive up the bargain. 7 Figures Later sees him reflecting on his successes; it isn’t superstar or star-level earnings, but if you’re an independent artist, 7 Figures is a lot, relatively speaking – or maybe I’m being hyperbolic based on examples  – I know there is a moment on the album where Perico details living large and staying humbled on “Talk That Talk.” 

Perico keeps true to his aesthetic, letting his music speak for itself, so you can understand why his appeal has similar consistency to those in an upper echelon. Perico is aware of the world, and it doesn’t leave him solace that he’s bringing his sweat, tears, and heightened emotional cadence in his flows, while artists like YG and Drake could make chart-topping singles without much about their livelihood or telling a proper story. Here, the closest thing Perico has to match it is some catchy flows, hooks, and content that balances accepting and relishing in success as he overcomes the dour moments in life. As he notes a few times throughout his career, gang relations and its (assumingly non-violent or crazy) pursuits are part of his life; it’s a vicarious sensation he shows when rapping about his identity, not sugarcoating it like Drake, where his relations is all faux-pa – shoot, Drake’s character in Degrassi’s only fear came from friends disliking him for being too rich; it should have been because he is annoying, but I digress – Drake still makes great music – authenticity isn’t always essential, but for someone like myself, I find myself loving lyricists who tell a story more than someone asking us to do a Toosii slide.

As G Perico would rap on the namesake opening track of Welcome to The Land, Perico notes, “I’m tryna grow and you ain’t bringin’ nothin’ through/Always talkin’ ’bout some other niggas, man, fuck them dudes/How I’m famous, but I’m still committin’ crime/See, they tryna break all the rap stars off with time,” which to him, he sees a discrepancy between music is circled and articulated – think the murder ballads in Country vs. Hip-Hop songs that detail the reality of violence in the streets. To him, this is normality, and though we’ve heard other rappers reflect similar notions like YG and Nipsey Hustle, Perico is more MC Eiht, where it’s never selling bricks, instead articulating what you want them to hear. That authenticity shines, but unlike the music of someone like YG – post Still Brazy – Perico hasn’t found an equilibrium between his niche West Coast style and tweaks to make a song prevalent, and that’s fine, as not everyone can be DJ Mustard, one of the more prolific producers from there, but Perico has catchy qualities, even if isn’t to the populous scale akin to a Mustard track. Additionally, the lyrics keep the content similar, but his energy and contemplations are gripping, and it’s enough to pause hesitation and spin, despite its 26-minute runtime.

G Perico’s producers carry an understanding of Perico’s style and build some classical beats that will make any old head feel alive. Add the strengths of his voice and the way it carries a smooth cadence within the flows to synergize with the potent elements in the beat, making it easier to return, especially with the first half of the album. Though it can sometimes feel tired and gratuitous, G Perico keeps it interesting with some quirky lines, “Me and the clicc flew out to an island (Innerprize)/Honolulu, I don’t eat spaghetti/These hoes know voodoo (No way)/I eat ass though,” on “Louder” or “Went through some Benzes, went through some Ranges/Let’s spin in a spaceship/Siri talkin’ to me in a different language” on “Stop Playin’” as a mean to express how ahead of the curb he is. It’s a thrill to get through and isn’t much of a waste of time.

I enjoyed this G Perico album as much as the next guy, and it’s short run time makes it easier to recommend, so I leave you with it. I recommend 7 Figures Later wholeheartedly, and I hope you find enjoyment in these rich sounds and cadences of West Coast Hip-Hop. I know I did and continue to. There is only one way but up, and Perico proves it.