Sauce Walka Remains Dedicated to the Sauce

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Sauce Walka has decided to go back to the basics. As often imitated as he's been over the past two years, Walk has made it pretty clear that he has no love for those he considers his children. To him, he has more rap sons than Shawty Lo had biological offspring. It’s not too far from the truth. What Walka has in charisma has been aped on numerous occasions by other rap acts, some far more inferior than the next. Biting one's tongue has never been of much value in the book of Sauce Commandments. While there may be small glimmers of vulnerability, they are quickly blocked out with high-grade weed and even louder boasts and brags.

In a year when everybody lost a piece of himself, Walk lost his mother, the woman whom he butted heads with on a more than consistent basis but always had love in his heart for. That story is not told on Sorry 4 The Sauce 3. Instead, Walk parades around with controlled bite and anger. It spills out into that spastic, almost uncontrollable bar-stack style he does on a few occasions. When he tries to confront himself, though, Sauce Walka is one of the best bar-droppers within city limits.

2016 was not unlike 2015 for Walk. He ran through the transitions of being a well-known, outspoken, outlandish rap act with a cult following willing to adhere to his every word. When Holy Sauce landed this past spring, most of the content got ignored thanks to its provocative album art. It also touched off a minor tiff with Trill Sammy, hence Sammy making his own Sorry 4 tape to be released in 2017. Still, The Sauce Factory was in full-forward movement. Rizzoo Rizzoo became more than just an occasional bar-delivering hype man. Sosamann carried the flag all the way to joining Wiz Khalifa (and now Lil Uzi Vert) on Taylor Gang. Sancho Saucy dropped his own solo tape, Sanchie P. While everyone decided to eat off of different plates and bring the leftovers home, the time Sauce Walka bided is reflected on Sorry 4 the Sauce 3. There are very few features on it, save for Sosamann and Sancho. Meaning it all belongs to Walk and he approaches it like such.

Sorry 4 the Sauce as a concept is no different than a ton of mixtapes over the past five or six years. You get an artist, sit him in a studio with a gang of instrumentals that he happens to like and watch him go to work. Lil Wayne popularized the method after 50 Cent and G-Unit took the songs of others and made their own street-level hits. In regards to evolution, Walka is the next logical step for your charismatic yet cold-hearted street rapper. Nothing comes before the crew, the flag he sports or how many times he’s broken you or your girl in one way or another. Right out of the gate, he lifts a Swishahouse After Da Kappa staple by jumping all over drum-heavy chops from Michael Watts. “I’m bringing this H-Town shit back,” he laughs along a Western guitar before launching into “After SXSW,” where he boasts about breaking Donald Trump’s daughter and spending money on Maison Margiela dog food. “I’ve been sipping syrup since I was uh … damn, eleven!”

Walka’s beat selection for Sorry 4 The Sauce 3 varies between North, South and West. He somehow figures the best idea in the world is to touch Nas & Braveheart’s “Oochie Wally,” 21 Savage & Metro Boomin’s “No Heart,” Three 6 Mafia’s “Who Run It?” and more: Crucial Conflict, Jadakiss, French Montana & Kodak Black’s “Lockjaw,” Nas’ “Nas Album Done” and even Lil Flip’s “Game Over." When he feels the need to pull the attention off him and his life story (“I was 19 facing 40”), he attaches it to watching helicopters overhead looking at a young male getting accosted by the cops (the West Coast-driven “Ghetto Birds”). In Sauce We Trust had “Black On Black Crime,” in which the leader of the Sauce found a way to transform into J-Dawg. “Gang Memories” admits that Walka didn’t become a Blood for the money but for the legacy. “This bangin’ shit been fucking up my rap career,” he confesses. “I was still outside pulling hair triggers.”

The greater legacy of the Sauce is to be told. Walka has gifts, evident from how often he reverted back to his A-Walk days when battling people in high school seemed a lot more fun than jumping off the porch. He still won’t give up saying that he shouldn’t have said this or done that over the past 12 months, and that’s to be expected. On the appropriately titled “F*ck Em," he sneers with a bit of glee. “They told me not to call these rappers fake, wait for the verse but don’t diss Drake — fuck em.”

It’s exactly how he likes living. On his own accord, with the almighty Sauce as his creed.


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