Rick Ross never breaks character. Ever.
– Gotty
Rick Ross has been telling the world he’s a boss since the release of Port of Miami in 2006 (it’s also the title of track 7). Whether this was a self-fulfilling prophecy, or further proof that “faking it til you make it” produces positive results, Ross, through six albums, more mixtapes, catchphrases, and bass-heavy beats, became what he said he would. It may sound new age-y, but hey, a new age approach worked out for the Seattle Seahawks last season (Rick Ross might be a rap version Pete Carroll with Meek Mill as Richard Sherman, Wale as Percy Harvin, and even-keeled Stalley as Russell Wilson).
I don’t recall how long it took Tony Montana to become kingpin in Scarface, but it took Ross about 8 years (and counting) to fulfill, rather, become, his destiny. And isn’t creating and embodying a character to achieve success just part of being a self-made boss, anyway?
Rick Ross: The Self Help Blueprint
Ross the Boss has grasped the key to success: He used to simply refute reality, but now he transcends it.
– Jayson Greene
First off, Rick Ross shouldn’t even in this position. In a world where Jay-Z got at Prodigy for being a ballerina in elementary school, being a rapper who once worked as a correctional officer as an adult is surely more damning.
While Whitman once stated that man is full of multitudes, but Ross is only filled with one level: boss. Amongst then unconfirmed rumors of being an ex-CO and a feud with 50 Cent, Ross released Deeper Than Rap in April 2009. While the numbers themselves are impressive (#1 on the Billboard Charts with 158,000 first week sales), it was the album that began to turn critical perception of how we were supposed to judge the music of Rick Ross. And what did “authenticity” mean anyway, in an age of social media and catfishing? The metric used to judge a Ross album became whether or not we believed in the persona developed on each record, not whether the persona was “real”. He said he’s a boss. Is basslines, hi-hats and synths what a boss sounds like? If yes, hit download.
But Teflon Don, released in 2010, was the album that turned Rick Ross the rapper into Rick Ross the Boss. Reviews of the album describe it as “transcendent absurdity”, and use phrases like “his chimerical mythologizing is as stubbornly entertaining as anything James Cameron could cook up”. This was the album we, as critics, agreed to be in on the movie. Yes, Rick Ross did improve as a songwriter – but so did our ability to critically judge Rick Ross (we went with the flow). And of course, Twitter was there to amplify the momentum.
My favorite Ross album is Port of Miami, as music is so tied to memory. Hustlin’ was the summer anthem, and Push It, the first real song on the album, was an epic introduction to Ross as Tony Montana and The Runners’ Vice City synths. That album was also one of the last physical CDs I ever bought (*sniff*). But the album was also the creation myth – it was Ross getting let off the boat and touching down on Miami for the first time.
After all, there’s The Secret, Think and Grow Rich, How to Win Friends and Influence People, and The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People. There’s also Trilla, Rich Forever, and now, Mastermind. At heart, we’re all Rick Rosses – we want to be rich, we want to be bosses, and we want to “make big moves”. We tell ourselves we’re hustlers when we look in the mirror before work every morning…and then? Ross’ albums are Dale Carnegie lectures over a trap beat – he went through that, and one day, we can, too. Rick Ross came of age in the era of social media, but the message is timeless.
