Project Pat
Walkin’ Bank Roll

HYPNOTIZE MINDS/KOCH

Project Pat has had more ups and downs than a seesaw. After his breakout appearance on Three 6 Mafia’s 2000 smash “Sippin’ on Some Syrup,” the local star earned a platinum plaque for his 2001 disc, Mista Don’t Play: Everythangs Workin. But Pat’s solo career hit a snag when, at the height of his popularity, he was jailed for a parole violation. Released four years later, the Memphis native found himself back at square one when his post-jail project, Crook by Da Book: Fed Story, stalled out at 148,000. Bankin’ on his exposure from Three 6’s MTV reality series, Pat hopes Walkin’ Bank Roll will put him back on the upswing.

With Juicy J and DJ Paul behind the boards, Pat has no worries in the beat department, making his only problem haters and hoes. For the former, there’s “See You Fall,” where he addresses rival d-boys who pray for his downfall. For the latter, check the Pimp C–assisted “Talkin’ Smart,” where he vividly describes the art of layin’ the pimp hand down. Then, on the ringtone-ready “Don’t Call Me No Mo,” Pat tells a former jump-off, “Don’t be booty callin’ me, you could keep ya legs closed/Never get this thing again for ya cooch or ya throat.”

Despite the plethora of bumpin’ tracks and catchy hooks, Pat fails to elevate the music with varied subject matter. Both “Hate My Swag” and “Motivated” rehash the same all-eyes-on-me mentality. Another fault is Pat’s lyrical inconsistencies. One minute he’s praising recreational drug use, with intoxicated anthems like “Good Weed” and “Powder.” The next he’s staunchly denouncing the great white way on “Bull Frog Yay” (“For that cocaine leaf people die, lose they life and/End up goin’ to jail, dealin’ with these snitches that’s triflin’”).

Expecting lyrical supremacy from Pat, however, is like searching for redemption in a whorehouse. His brand of music is a guilty pleasure that relies on energized simplicity backed by a thundering score. If that’s all you’re looking for, then Walkin’ Bank Roll is right on the money.—PAUL CANTOR