Bekay is that chip-shouldered scumbag from down the block whom your mom banned from the house after she caught him sodomizing your little sister’s Teddy Ruxpin. Still, that was just the beginning in a passionate career of crashing tape decks.
This Brooklyn bastard raps with remarkable aggression and clarity; only a “stuck-up big-nose cunt half-a-retard” like his ex-girlfriend would be incapable of managing his message. And though his personal journals ring a bit shallow from rhyme to rhyme, Bekay’s complete effort is anything but.
So far, the common criticism of Hunger Pains is that dude is stuck in the spit-and-sample golden age. Point taken, but much more important is that with his drive, delivery, and determination, Bekay could have hung with cats in that or any other era. Beyond his iron flow and his careful beat selection, the proof of his bark lies in his collaborations, which — whether with Alchemist, Inspectah Deck, Masta Ace, or Evidence — are legitimate tag-team efforts as opposed to pay-for-spray MySpace arrangements. This album won’t bring Brooklyn back — whatever the fuck that means — but it can be considered a respectable addendum to the Kings County canon that inspired Bekay’s bravado.
