The fun thing about Houston rap is that sometimes it escapes out of the city and other people get to talk about it the same way you and I do. They get to lob up superlatives and break things down like a coach would break down film. Damn Tropical Storm Bill, we must enjoy the good times and with that, we have to enjoy the songs that have come out this week that will sit around for a little while until they get overlapped by bigger and better songs.

Chedda Da Connect feat. Fetty Wap, Boosie Badazz, Yo Gotti & Boston George, โ€œFlicka Da Wrist (Remix)โ€
There have been multiple teases to Chedda Da Connectโ€™s โ€œFlicka Da Wristโ€ remix. Rick Ross hopped on one version, and French Montana dropped his version of street-addled nursery rhymes on another. Chedda appreciated and liked those, but knew they werenโ€™t the official one. This one, bloated as hell with enough features to mirror those massive early-โ€˜00s remixes that could go nearly eight minutes (this clocks in around six). Fred On Emโ€™s beat doesnโ€™t change one bit but Chedda offers a brand-new verse; same goes for Boston George, who featured on the club version of the original. Fetty Wap arrives and sort of lounges around for a bit, as does Yo Gotti to close things up. The real winner here? Boosie, who has managed to make even a new Tyga song listenable due to his penchant for hyperactive sex rhymes over Too $hort-style Oakland bass.

Migos feat. Sauce Twinz & Sosamann, โ€œFollow My Drippingโ€
Thereโ€™s a world we live in, where Atlanta’s Migos are possibly better than the Beatles and live in your head with every melody, adlib and hyperactive punchline. Itโ€™s sort the same orbit that the Sauce Factory occupy, which make them perfect bedfellows. Houstonโ€™s most blob-like rap family organism has two new tapes in rotation, the Twinz and Sosamannโ€™s Sauce Theft Auto and Rodji Diegoโ€™s Rodzilla project, both of which dropped in early June. โ€œFollow My Dripping,โ€ the return favor from โ€œOn Topโ€ in which complete chaos reigned between all five parties, is much of the same. The Migos (Quavo & Takeoff) essentially adopt Sauce-a-nese, Sauce Walka shouting out his white girl who has โ€œblue eyes like a crip.” Meanwhile, Sancho Saucy and Sosamann exist to drop no more than four bars apiece, almost ceding everything to Quavo, Takeoff and Walka.

The Outfit, TX โ€“ โ€œBig Daddyโ€
Haddaway once asked, โ€œWhat is love?โ€ He also begged not to be hurt anymore because of how much loved sucked. The Outfit, TX, 2014 Houston Press Music Award winners for Best Rap Group, already own the best straight-up crew-rap video by brandishing a confederate flag right next to Maxo Kream for โ€œU.” They also have been in the fucked-up friend-zone position, the โ€œbrotherโ€ position. The homie-lover-friend position. All of those labels donโ€™t necessarily mean boyfriend. So, the Dallas-raised, Houston-educated trio bubble around a load of sexed-up synths from OutKastโ€™s โ€œFunky Rideโ€ on โ€œBig Daddy,โ€ the latest in a triplet of 2015 releases (โ€œWild Turkey,โ€ โ€œUโ€).ย Jay Hawk may enjoy creeping around but heโ€™s not a fool, especially when thereโ€™s more batshit-crazy babydaddies around than anything else. Let them tell it, The Outfit, TX would rather enjoy a conversation about Bill Maher and a little sex afterwards than discussing whatโ€™s on your Twitter timeline. That makes for the best possible โ€œdo your thing and then let me do mineโ€ kind of โ€œlove songโ€ there is.

Propain, โ€œWhere Its Atโ€
Show of hands if you knew G Luck and B Don would sample a Halle Berry movie for a Propain track. You canโ€™t, can you? No one could have predicted that Propain, he who owned the best mixtape of 2013 with Ridinโ€™ Slab,ย would be asking more questions and curious about the answers on the first release from his Against All Odds tape. โ€œWhere Its Atโ€ runs similar to โ€œAinโ€™t Madโ€ from OneHunnidtโ€™sย Field Sobriety tape. The two differ in that Hunnidt knows why certain people do the shit they do and Pro just wonders why put up a front? Why act like Rachel Dolezal when you donโ€™t really have to?

Outside of Doughbeezyโ€™s Reggie Bush & Kool-Aid 2, the next Propain tape is the most sought-after in the city. Nobody treats their projects like anticipated moments of exhale than Pro. Itโ€™s why heโ€™s far more tedious in the recording process than some of his peers, and would rather serve up something proper as opposed to letting loosie by loosie go. โ€œWhere Its Atโ€ asks all the right questions and pokes plenty of chests. Then again, anytime Pro decides to rip straight through his Hiram Clarke drawl and plant himself as a verbal king of the city, thereโ€™s few questions to be asked.

Trae Tha Truth feat. Rick Ross, โ€œI Donโ€™t Give a Fuckโ€
Four years ago, while he was rapping in virtual terrestrial purgatory, Trae Tha Truth teamed with Rick Ross and Lil Wayne for โ€œInkredible.” Four years later, a lot of things have worked in a weird inverse. Then, Trae Tha Truth was the grizzled rap veteran doing his damndest to circumnavigate the bullshit thrown on him via one interview and one banning from Radio One. Now, heโ€™s a grizzled Houston rap vet who is on a major and seems more interested in stretching his hardened street character even further. Meanwhile, his co-star here is coasting. No, literally. Rick Ross can show up and rap about sleeping with a chick badder than the one weโ€™re sleeping with and for all intents and purposes, it’s true. Anytime you can get Lira Galore, you pretty much won. ย โ€œI Donโ€™t Give a Fuckโ€ is enjoyable solely because itโ€™s Trae back in his element. That low-decibel, bassline-heavy moment where Tha Truth can simply be him. He could double-time it. He could stretch it far into a mumbly sing-song affair. Either way, Trae Tha Truth doesnโ€™t give a fuck and weโ€™re better off for it.

Zavey feat. Vic D & OneHunnidt, โ€œEither Way It Goโ€
What do you do with Zavey, one of the few Houston rappers who can smoke and rap about actual life better than maybe three other people? Heโ€™s stuck in a crowded atmosphere that hasnโ€™t really enjoyed a lyricist of a high caliber on a consistent basis since Chamillionaire before he rode gimmicks to Grammy success. Itโ€™s a finicky position to stay in and โ€œEither Way It Go,โ€ a three man weave between Zavey, Vic D & OneHunnidt only makes that position even harder. The Prodeuser goes for simple for a change, no massive sample flip, no goofy boardwork that turns into something that takes away from the track itself. Instead youโ€™ve got three men, three fathers and three rap individuals who preach self-awareness and love trying to work the ins and outs of their daily lives. The Upper Room from Zavey should be a signifier that even flat out rappers such as he can have a chance beyond the club heavy shit talk that populates and permeates through Houston rap.

Brandon Caldwell has been writing about music and news for the Houston Press since 2011. His work has also appeared in Complex, Noisey, the Village Voice & more.