Despite having a wide discography of solo albums, Rick Ross has always seemed to hit hardest when he’s featured on tracks rather than starring as the main attraction. He’s the pinch hitter that can consistently step up to the plate and knock one out of the park with a growling 12 bars.

Still, following up his Black Dollar and Renzel Remixes mixtapes released earlier this year, Ricky Rozay is back with his third release of the year, Black Market LP.

On his last LP, Mastermind, where songs like “Sanctified” and “The Devil Is A Lie” hit hardest because they revolved around the features (Kanye West, Jay Z, Big Sean) rather than Ross himself. With Ross’ newest project, it still seems the personality of “Da Boss” seems better served in a condensed feature form than it does diluted throughout an entire solo album.

But that doesn’t mean Ross doesn’t have a lot to say. On Black Market, he seems to be getting a lot off his elephant-sized chest. The lyrics tackle a wide array of topics, from his relationships with his mother and Lira Galore, to ghostwriting and the Drake vs. Meek Mill feud.

Still, the way Ross goes about presenting these issues sonically is horrendously underwhelming.

Ross’ wordplay on this record feels tired and uninspired, and his vocal delivery stubbornly remains dialed in on a gruff stumbling cadence.  It doesn’t matter if he’s rapping about wanting his mother to find happiness on “Smile, Mama Smile,” or dissing Drake on “Ghostwriter” — Ross continues using the same dry emotional inflection in his voice, void of heart or passion.

But it’s not just the lackluster lyrical delivery that brings Black Market down. The instrumentals on this LP feel just as soul sucked as the vocals. The album tries to go for an early 2000s R&B sound with fluttery piano keys, reverbed clean guitars and whispering snares. It’s bright, it’s glitzy and it does nothing to compliment Ross’ imposing persona in any way.

Black Market could easily be dismissed as a forgettable hip-hop record, but some tracks on the LP are so offensively bad that they’re actually quite memorable. The sixth track, “Dope Dick,” may have one of the most cringeworthy hooks of the year with Ross dropping lines like, “Dope dick, I fuck her slow with the dope dick / Slow dick, dope dick, I got the dope dick.”

The tenth track, “Can’t Say No,” features a Mariah Carey chorus that makes Rick Ross’ verses sound so out of place it seems two different songs are playing simultaneously.

After a stint in jail, a rocky relationship with Lira Galore and an attempt at rebuilding his social presence through a release of mixtapes, one might think Black Market would be the start of a new chapter for Ross. But it seems the LP is less of a new chapter and more of an abrupt ending that makes one question why they read the book in the first place.

Rating: 1.5/5