My Turn to Eat, it is a powerful declaration, especially when your album cover features what could be called a “make it rain” sandwich.  Why would Grand Hustle‘s Big Kuntry King make this statement? Being signed under one of Hip Hop’s biggest stars in T.I. [click to read] could make anyone feel dwarfed in comparison. Closed mouths don’t get fed and while My Turn to Eat isn’t the most filling thing meal, it does have a tendency at times to satisfy. Even so, this isn’t an album that assures Kuntry a place in the kitchen.

There are still inklings of potential here. “We iz” is Kuntry over the J.U.S.T.I.C.E League‘s signature Floridian flavor, open production surrounded by effective snares and bass drops. It is easily the best produced track on the album. That boisterous sound is surrounded by boastful rhymes, signified by its hook, which delves into the vanity which comes with living the D-boy lifestyle.

The expressive “Soul of a Man” stands out from the surrounding tracks, as Ricco croons behind Kuntry‘s introspective rhymes.  Gone are the tales of blowing cash by the truckload on the wasteful. They are instead replaced by the sincere lyrics of a man who hustled for it all.  From a tale of the trap and the pitfalls of the world that surrounds it, the solemn beat encircles the lyrics and gives the listener a selection of the good with the bad.

This album, however, suffers from a split personality. For every topic there seems to be a good song matched with a mediocre track.  Take the “get money” standards, “Posse”, which driving bass behind the snap snare around the rhymes of Macboney, Yung LA, and Kuntry work well in tandem. On the other end of the spectrum is “Focus” which is saved by Young Dro‘s [click to read] up-tempo signature flow.

Around that split personality, lies a pool of forgetfulness that swallows the prior potential. The Lloyd-assisted “Love You the Right Way” feels like it came straight from an A&R’s cliché textbook. “Pot & Pans” tries its hardest to be an anthem, but it falls on its face. The emotion which is displayed in “Soul of a Man” is missing. His delivery is monotone and the song comes across as less of an artist rapping, more of a man reading from a pad. The result of such leads to an album never has a solid surface to stand on.

My Turn to Eat won’t grab people’s attention, and it shouldn’t. During the album’s intro, Grand Hustle‘s official comedian Lil Duval attends the album release party. Between bouts of a faux interview, they try to make the point that it is his time to shine. To his credit, he doesn’t use T.I. to stand on his own two, but that is where the credit ends.  At the end of the day, your first time eating you’re bound to bite your tongue once or twice, and Big Kuntry King is not infallible.