They don't make underground albums like this any more. Sixteen tracks of uncut animal rawness, the supergroup Army of the Pharaohs' sophomore disc picks up where the last left off, relentlessly pummelling your delicate sensibilities into submission.
The motley crew of foul mouths let their frustrations out over bass-heavy, banging beats by Ill Bill, Esoteric, DJ Kwestion and others. They have about 300 ways to say they'll "put the Colt .45 to your lips like Billy Dee Williams." You want a track for the ladies? Well, "Army of the Pharaohs never make love songs / We finger-fuck women with Freddy Krueger gloves on." Yikes.