Wiz Khalifa’s albums have never been as good as his mixtapes.

On his earlier efforts, the Pittsburgh emcee’s breezy attitude and malleable delivery made him a perfect poster child for weed rap. His bars were never steeped in metaphor or even necessarily clever, (“Groupies wanna leave the club wit’ me/Ain’t nothin’ to a G’/Let your hair blow in the breeze/ Roll some bomb-a** weed,”) but gliding instrumentals and a splash of melody made his discography the perfect soundtrack for an afternoon smoke sesh in the 2010s. Where his mixtapes thrived in their cruise-control chilled-out vibes, Wiz Khalifa’s albums have always suffered from a strange stiffness he’s never been able to escape.

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