There was not a bigger, more contagious crossover radio smash in the autumn of 1991 than 's a song that somehow managed the trick of being both audaciously catchy and subversively coy at the same time. Its irrepressible appeal -- the sample, the saucy subject matter, the huge anthemic chorus, 's phat rat-a-tat flow -- was so widespread, in fact, that it played just as well to the hardcore heads in the hood as it did to the dabblers in the suburbs. The beauty of the trio's self-titled full-length debut is that it is every bit as musically accomplished, and every bit as ghetto fabulous, in its entirety as that watershed first single. is both a and a classic that chews up stylistic real estate by the block, easily shifting from an old-school rhyme-off between and ( ), the unflappable -produced posse cut (with verses from compadres ), and the teeth-clinching combative dirge all of which very much come out swinging from the streets, to the more measured, emotionally developed which brings an upbeat but nail-tough point of view to a grim tale of parental and societal deprivation without ever asking for an ounce of sympathy. With the assistance of 's makeshift patois, the trio even brought something of the Caribbean to East Orange with All the tracks are as street as they are club astute, trimming the loops with live keyboards and saxophone and sanguine, soulful melodies. A must-have album for fans of . ~ Stanton Swihart