The sequel to his star-studded breakthrough album of 2001, Fat Joe's Jealous Ones Still Envy (J.O.S.E. 2) uses the same formula to almost the same effect. The "Porn Star," "Cupcake," "Ice Cream" sequence of tracks is the big tip-off that this is a more singles-geared release for the rapper with the high-profile collaborations stacked high as hooks and slick production running the show. The Akon feature "One," plus "Aloha" with Pleasure P and Rico Love, are empty and fun weekend numbers with choruses that stick in the head. "Porn Star" with Lil' Kim is the naughty club cut you'd expect, and even if the T-Pain cut, "Put Ya in Da Game," is the textbook definition of "predictable," Joe's swagger here fits perfectly with the top-hatted one's ultra-polished production. The only big surprise comes right up front as producer Ron Browz gives "Winding on Me" a slowly slithering bassline, creating a wonderfully bizarre backing track for Joe and Lil Wayne's strip club stories ("She got it in the front/I took a step back"). The track list is right-sized and the rhymes are amusing the whole way through, making the title the only thing left to gripe about. The album is actually capping off a trilogy that started with 1995's Jealous One's Envy, meaning this is a sequel to a sequel and would be legitimate with "still" or "3" in the title. ~ David Jeffries, All Music Guide
If the title The Elephant in the Room represents anything, it's Fat Joe's solid and reliable talent. It can't refer to the rapper himself because the man gets press by the pallet, but if you sift through all the beef talk and the chump accusations you'll have a hard time matching it up with his output. Objectively, he's never embarrassed himself, and the behemoth-sized boasts he makes are all over gangsta rap, yet rarely backed up by the number of gold records Joe has on his wall. He's a survivor, a smart captain with protégés Terror Squad and DJ Khaled his crowning achievements, and for all these things he deserves respect. What's fascinating about The Elephant in the Room is that it doesn't hunger for adoration or accolades but it obsesses on acknowledgement, the lack of which puts an all-day knot in Joe's stomach. Rather than rely on the one or two quick-witted jabs he usually drops in a verse, here the rapper uses a slowly corrosive approach and wears down all enemies with a slower but ever so steady grind. Violent imagery is important to get the job done, and when the visceral highlight "300 Brolic" decides killing your mom wasn't enough, it offers "I am a professional/I will cut your testicles/Stuff 'em in your mouth where them li'l shits belong." Joe's driven enough that he actually breaks away from his usual monotone delivery and makes "Bumpin' that Kanye/You can't tell me nuthin' riiiiiiiiight?" a layered lyric through his snarky, indignant inflection. The few radio-friendly numbers included somehow work in this environment, with the J. Holiday collaboration "I Won't Tell" bringing especially sweet relief. Towering above it all is "My Conscience," where KRS-One plays the supportive angel on Joe's shoulder and offers "You was with Relativity/I was with Jive/All that bullshit you been through/How'd you survive," both a hip-hop history and frame of reference. Where Elephant falls off is with all the excessive cocaine talk -- which just seems to be taking away from the matter at hand -- plus the star-studded list of producers -- the Alchemist, Scott Storch, Swizz Beatz -- and their failure to match the rapper's enthusiasm. Still, Joe warns the listener right at the beginning that he's more Eazy-E than Ice Cube -- and for three-fourths of the album, he's spot on. ~ David Jeffries, All Music Guide
After his massive 2004 hit "Lean Back" with his crew Terror Squad, Fat Joe returned with the full-length All or Nothing. The 2005 album stiffed, and haters egged on by Joe's rival, 50 Cent, let their venom roll across message boards. For them, the very gangsta and sorta indie Me, Myself and I is the desperate result of meager sales and the last gasp of Joe's career. Listen to it objectively, and it's anything but. Fat Joe's had a problem with the full-length for quite some time, and his best efforts were blunted by concessions to the radio and by collaborations that didn't fit. Recorded on his own and then released in cooperation with EMI, the incredibly focused Me, Myself and I breaks the chain by going back to the scrappy street days of his early hit, "Flow Joe," while reaping the benefits of his relationship with his Terror Squad brother DJ Khaled. While Fat Joe takes the executive producer credit, he follows Khaled's model of blending of New York's dirty street noise with Miami's trunk-rumbling thunder while putting one of the DJ's favorites, Lil Wayne, on the very short guest list. Joe and Wayne's excellent leadoff single, "Make It Rain" -- produced by extended family member Scott Storch -- is the perfect calling card for the album, since kicking beats with steal-toed boots and lean hooks is all you're going to get here. Storch works his minimal magic once again on "Think About It," leaving Joe plenty of room to work his simple and entirely effective chorus. Same goes for "Breathe and Stop," with producer Nu Jerzey Devil looping a short bit of Bob Marley's "War" under Joe and the Game's seriously infectious swagger. The Game and Lil Wayne are huge names in 2006, but that's it for guests, and it soon becomes obvious that just like the skeletal musical landscapes, this choice was made to make sure the man whose name is on the cover owns the album. With the spotlight so decidedly on himself, Joe comes off as a commanding veteran with a rare taste of freedom. Free of pop collaborations that push him to the side, Joe, who often is given the job of providing the vocal hook, indulges himself with the lyrics and freely goes from internal to external with a freestyler's heart. Right from the start, he name-checks his heroes Big Pun and Biggie on the opening "Pandemic," then powerfully boasts and brags before making an ungraceful transition to political commentary. Nothing on this album is graceful, and even at a tight 12 tracks, the relentless quest to get back to his hood roots will wear on the casual fan. On the other hand, hearing this high-profile thug so boldly reclaiming his street cred without any concessions is exciting and makes it easy to shrug off this driven full-length's one-track mind. ~ David Jeffries, All Music Guide
Fat Joe's success with Terror Squad's "Lean Back" came at a small price that made a surprisingly big ripple. A dis, however unprovoked, came from 50 Cent on "Piggy Bank": "That fat nigga thought 'Lean Back' was 'In da Club'/My sh*t sold 11 mil, his sh*t was a dud." Big deal. Fat Joe doesn't seem to have body issues (maybe that's why he calls himself Fat Joe), and a lot of grandmothers can confirm that "Lean Back" wasn't a dud. This non-event also had something to do with the decision to change this album's original title, Things of That Nature, to the more serious All or Nothing. (A wise move since "Things of that nature" is almost as synonymous with Arnold Schwarzenegger as "You're fired" is with Donald Trump.) The album, Joe's first in name since 2002's Loyalty, caught some extra attention thanks to a reluctant response track. "My Fofo," in which shots are fired back, demonstrates why he doesn't consider himself a battle MC. For reasons hinted at above, and the fact that he caved into pressure from fans, he doesn't seem all that into it, even though some of the rhymes are wittier and meaner than the ones that provoked them. He's far more convincing when laying out general boasts and talking about street life. Apart from that one uncharacteristic track, All or Nothing isn't much of a change from the past few Fat Joe albums, with some durable hard-hitters rounded out with a handful of tepid R&B crossovers (featuring R. Kelly, Jennifer Lopez, and Mashonda). Swizz Beatz, Timbaland, and Just Blaze kick out some beneficial production work, but Cool & Dre handle several tracks and often match their more famous peers. While Fat Joe has yet to come up with a landmark album, he also hasn't released a dud since his 1993 debut. ~ Andy Kellman, All Music Guide
Loyalty is the name of the game for Fat Joe this time out, as it relates to fans still true to the Bronx's hardest rapper despite chart success with Ashanti, his own loyalty to his hardcore past considering there's a spate of joints for the ladies this time out, and having his loyalty to deceased partner Big Pun questioned by Pun's widow in a highly publicized radio bout just before the album's release. Driven by the breakout of his Ashanti duet "What's Luv?," Loyalty comes with hardcore-but-hot joints like the sleek single "Crush Tonight" (with Ginuwine), "Bust at You," the Irv Gotti production "Turn Me On," and "TS Piece" (the latter with Terror Squad's Remy holding up the female end). Fat Joe proves he's still got a lot of hardcore in him, though, with "Gangsta" and "Born in the Ghetto," plus another volume in the "Sh*t Is Real" saga and a new Terror Squad anthem, "Prove Something." ~ John Bush, All Music Guide
Fat Joe's Jealous Ones Still Envy follows the precedent set by his preceding albums, not offering anything particularly novel but rather carrying on in the great "Big Poppa" tradition of Notorious B.I.G.-influenced rap. Joe's still putting it down for N.Y.C., repping himself as part thug, part player. It's the age-old scenario -- if Joe's not keepin' it real on the streets the grimy way, he's loungin' like a pimp and livin' large. A few albums into his career, Joe has this approach down to a science. In fact, much of this album resembles his past work in terms of lyrics. It's only the production and guest appearances that sets Jealous Ones Still Envy apart from previous Fat Joe albums like Don Cartagena (1998) and Jealous Ones Envy (1995). Some of this album's featured producers include Irv Gotti, Rocwilder, Bink Dog, Buckwild, and Alchemist; featured rappers include Ludacris, Petey Pablo, M.O.P., R. Kelly, and Remy. Since this is Joe's first album in three years -- not counting the Terror Squad album -- fans were no doubt hungry upon its release, evidenced by the eager embrace of the album's lead single (the R. Kelly collabo, "We Thuggin'"), even if the Puerto Rican rapper is serving up more of the same. ~ Jason Birchmeier, All Music Guide
The third album from power-Bronx Latino rapper Fat Joe tones down his once-prevalent gangsta leans -- they're still there, though, from the album's title to rhythmic gunshot bursts guiding the cuts -- and builds up his hood and familial loyalties through a series of melodically enticing (and vaguely Wu-Tang-ish) songs. Like he did on Big Punisher's album from the same year, Capital Punishment, Fat Joe works Don Cartagena's slinky street beats into a semi-sublime hip-hop opera that's more than a sum of its parts. Only the between-song skits (which are juvenile and mood-dropping) and the overloaded guest list (cameos from Puff Daddy, Nas, Big Punisher, Raekwon and the Terror Squad merely skim the surface of the overwhelming uselessness of this overplayed genre trend) wear down Don Cartagena's often mesmerizing and noble attempt at a late-'90s rap resuscitation. ~ Michael Gallucci, All Music Guide
The infamous Fat Joe (aka Joey Crack), a heavyset bully of a rapper out of the South Bronx, dropped this noisy jackhammer of an album in late 1995. The follow-up to his street-acclaimed Represent from 1993 is bloated with vivid tales of violence and fortified claims to street credibility. Joe has an old-world sense of the criminally minded and displays a Cosa Nostra-like romanticism in his hearty boasts to rap supremacy. An interlude of Spanish braggadocio over the melodic Godfather theme and a Frank White (Christopher Walken) monologue from King of New York are proof of Joe's self-professed kingpin status. The healthy dose of inspired production from heavyweights Diamond D, Premier, and Domingo provide an amply pugilistic background for Joe's nitroglycerin-fueled verbal warfare. Joe makes no bones about his affiliations with drug trafficking and thievery either: "I'm the realer MC/the drug dealer MC." The legendary KRS-One climbs aboard on "Bronx Tale" and the Wu-Tang's Raekwon helps out on "Respect Mine." Even the shamelessly purloined sample of Marvin Gaye's "Sexual Healing" on "Envy" cannot slow down this driving record. Few rap albums of the modern era have the pure testicular quality of Jealous One's Envy and the lyrical content, while tending to be repetitive, is always clever and never nauseating. A solid second effort from a true Bronx Bomber. ~ M.F. DiBella, All Music Guide
When Fat Joe debuted in 1993, few would have guessed that he'd be topping the charts years later -- both the album charts as a gangsta (Don Cartagena) and the pop charts as a charmer ("What's Luv?," his duet with Ashanti). After all, when he released Represent in 1993, Fat Joe was known as Fat Joe da Gangsta and had no qualms about being hardcore. And that's precisely how he flows on this album -- gangsta and hardcore. It helps, though, that Diamond D, one of New York's finest producers from the early '90s, keeps the beats flowing throughout Represent. Moreover, it helps that Fat Joe had a catchy single here, "Flow Joe," to market the album with as well. Granted, Represent finds Fat Joe dropping rather juvenile rhymes relative to his later work, but you can hear on this album what all the fuss would be about later. ~ Jason Birchmeier, All Music Guide