When Haystak decided to name his newest album Crackaveli, the bar was immediately raised. When you reciprocate the title of a cultural icon’s most awe-inspiring album, you’re just asking for criticism. And that goes for anyone, not just a 300-lb white boy from Nashville. Just ask Hov.

But in essence of the late fallen soldier from East Harlem, the Street Flavor Records MVP said “fuck the world.” Not only did he mold the Makaveli title with somewhat of a racial slur for white people, he did something few artists in any genre ever succeed at. He made it a double-disc.

At 30 tracks deep, Jason Winfree’s latest effort isn’t quite on par with Pac in ’96, but it’s definitely a strong outing in its own right. As the third and final chapter of his Whiteboy Trilogy, Crackaveli solidifies Haystak’s status as one of the most consistent and versatile MCs under the pavement. Armed with almost as many different flows as song concepts, Stak Mak goes for broke over Sonny P and Jon Conner beats throughout the entire 112-minute album.

If you‘re already a fan of Mr.Makmillion, you know the range of emotions dude can cover in one disc. Like few rappers nowadays, he’ll bring you close to tears with one song, and then have you ready to bar brawl the next. Well, with this album he did it again. Except on this go ‘round, instead of varying each song, he varied each disc. The first one shows his force, while the second disc shows his heart, and together they show his strength.

On disc one, tracks like “I’m Reloaded”, “Boss Status”, and “Make You Fly” prove that Stak’s frame ain’t the only thing that’s a force to be reckoned with. On the title track, “Crackaveli”, Stak spits:

“Seven albums/ Hundred thousands
Local wrapped ‘em/ Outta-towned ‘em
Hit em hard/ Ev’ry swang
Reputation’s every thang
Never came fake or fronted
Gave Cash-villains what they wanted
Anthems/ Bangers/ Heated shit
Imitators/ Eat a dick”

Despite that undeniable vocal-empowerment Stak emulates on the front half of the album, he also dabbles in other topics, such as; hood trippin (“Bounce Thru Ya Block”), blowing gans (“Baked”), underground rappers (“Track 7,” which features Bun B), and most notably, the hypocrisy of our culture in regards to hip-hop (“Freak Show”).

On the flip side, disc two provides more of an insight into Haystak’s life, and that’s where he truly shines. With extremely empathetic lyrics, and their ability to capture his listeners, Stak touches on subjects that other artists would normally make sound corny. His song for the ladies, “Special Kinda Girl,” isn’t about grindin or gettin down, like a lot of songs of that nature. Instead, it’s more of an ode to all the women in his life, a reciprocation of appreciation of sorts. “Change,” is on the same level, except with more of apologetic tone, which is something a lot people (not just rappers) can’t seem to do right.

On the tracks, “Sail On,” “Angels,” and “Nothing’s Wrong,” Stak speaks of his “Big Homie,” who recently got got. The heartfelt words of a man, who just lost someone he clearly admired, bleed through the music and into your speakers. When listening to Stak’s message to himself from his “Big Homie’s” POV from Heaven, on “Sail On,” you might want to keep a hanky close-by.

“You’da thought you’d see me and I’d see you
Probably thought I’d see you in ICU
You can’t see me but I see you
Wish you could hear me sayin ba-by just be cool…”

While Stak’s depth also shines on conceptual songs like “Rap Money,” “Drive,” and “Prey for Me,” the goose-pimple giving “My Lyrics” shows depth that only the greats can deliver. Elaborating on what his songs mean to him, his people, and his fans, Stak sets listeners free with what’s probably the best song on the album.

“My lyrics reach deep in the cracks and crevices
Stimulants to some but to others they sedative/
My lyrics/ The honest to god truth
The same truth in the streets that I am the booth”

And that’s why I personally fuck with Stak, lyrics like those. His music covers more ground than a 20 on the Richter scale, and he keeps it realer than 99% percent of the rap game. In a genre that is predominately black, Stak feels that he holds it down for Caucasians the way Pac held it down for his brothers and sisters, and he’s right. Not one rapper has ever held it down for the white boys like Haystak does, and that’s why he named his album Crackaveli. Hate on it if you want, it don’t matter to Stak. He’s earned that title.

Word to every CWB out there.

Haystak – Crackaveli