If David Lynch were to produce a hardcore rap mix tape, it would probably sound something like Brings the Hood. You might find the baby-faced Turf Talk skulking adorably in the shadows of some crunk Vallejo club, name-checking local dope dealers in a cryptic, slang-addled street-speak that Mr. Blue Velvet would definitely appreciate. Fans of mobb rap are crazy about this, and you'll understand why when you hear "Dope Man," which sounds as though it was recorded in a cave, with one dude on an 808 and another dude banging two hubcaps together to make a loud, satisfying clank. Lyrically, Turf Talk is on an old-school grimy tip, rapping about the dope game, cars with Darth Vader windows, and everything else condemned in either the Bible or the penal code. The production quality varies, but a great deal is phenomenal: all tinny, teeth-chattering booms, with various things being slapped just because they're slappable. The hottest track, "Turf Talk Iz Back," features a cackling rooster sample as E-40 nonsensically chants Up and down like a teetah-tottah/Up like a teetah-tottah. Once you hear this on a booming car stereo, you'll understand Turf Talk's appeal.
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