Blood in My Eye

The cover of Ja Rule’s latest album features a sourpussed, fist-clenching Ja Rule drawn as a cartoon character stomping through the ghetto. Come to think of it, so does the album itself. The Ja Rule of Blood in My Eye has descended to a level of cartoonish thuggery. When not taking unimaginative swipes at Eminem, Dr. Dre, and particularly 50 Cent, he’s waving his proverbial gun, threatening to “put two in your stomach,” flashing “stacks of hundreds,” and “cooking up coke to sell.” Nobody’s ever accused Ja of having a potent flow, but his guttural barking feels particularly unconvincing spouting such predictable dross. Occasionally, Irv Gotti’s production bails out the tired narrative: The spare, insidious guitar hook on “Clap Back” is a damn good Neptunes impression, and the shades of dancehall on “The Crown” are a nice touch. But strip away the bullshit and Blood in My Eye (like 50 Cent’s absurdly overpraised Get Rich or Die Tryin’) is just a clichéd chronicle of insecurity and self-absorption.