Anyone who's heard a mainstream rap disc in the past decade may have noticed that, beyond the painful radio candy, cats like Jay-Z, Busta Rhymes, and even 50 Cent have a few hard-grinding tracks on which they open cans of kick-ass. Oftentimes those slept-on cuts come courtesy of Nottz, a Virginia-bred producer whom everyone from Snoop Dogg and the Game to Mass MCs Krumbsnatcha and Termanology looks to for fire. Nottz is one of hip-hop's few underground traditionalists to clock commercial ducats, and to last years in the phony-ass industry without trading his own sound for the latest beat trends. Granted that the tracks on his solo debut are well-polished and at times a tad hook-heavy, there's a basement æsthetic throughout that invites the exceptional likes of Black Milk and Kardinal Offishall to open up. But even with the giant horns and his delightfully erratic drum kicks (and major winners with Joell Ortiz and Asher Roth), what stands out here are the rhymes by Nottz himself. Although mostly silent on the mic until now, he serves up rugged, often autobiographic realness straight from the sewer — which might explain why this album didn't drop on one of the plantation labels that he fucks with as a beatmaker.