Steve 'Flash' JuonMy wife loves Trap-A-Holics mixtapes. It’s not the sort of thing you’d expect from a classically trained musician, but nobody would guess I’m a “rap-a-holic” if they met me at random either. The two of us wound up accidentally being the cliché that opposites attract. I love hearing her play Jean Sibelius, and she loves hearing that “Damn son where’d you find this?” drop. Even though I get so many requests to cover albums that there’s no possible way to address them all, I could resist “Down South Mex” once I heard that Trap-A-Holics signature. She’s part Mexican so I suspect she may like this one even more than usual.
Speaking of an overwhelming amount, there’s no way a reasonable person could cover every mixtape that comes out in a year. “Down South Mex” dropped in 2013 and wasn’t on my radar. To make matters worse I can’t say I was familiar with Cartel MGM AT ALL before this release. I searched the RapReviews archive to be sure and got “sorry, nothing found” back. After this review that same search will go from zero results to one. Maybe I’m being too hard on myself though. Cartel doesn’t have a Wikipedia page and if you try to learn more about him on Google you have to get creative with keywords. The best I can tell is he was born in East L.A., his family moved to Atlanta when he was young, and as he started to pursue his musical ambitions he befriended the likes of Waka Flocka Flame and OJ Da Juiceman.
Sadly we can also count the late Young Dolph as a friend thanks to his appearance on “Big Faces.” Cartel was making the right connects in 2014 and Lex Luger counts among them in a big way. There’s no disguising I haven’t rated Waka highly as a lyricist, but there’s no denying when Lex laces a Flocka track it’s guaranteed to slap. Early successes like “O Let’s Do It” led to Luger being in high demand in the South and worldwide, turning his synthesizer sounds and booming beats into hits for Rick Ross, Jay-Z, Snoop, Wiz Khalifa, and too many more to count. That success almost consumed Luger through drug abuse, which is eerie when you consider the same thing nearly happened to the wrestler he named himself after.
“It’s such a good feeling, such a good feeling
Such a good feeling stacking money to the ceiling”
“Down South Mex” winds up turning Cartel MGM into a Waka Flocka protégé entirely by design. The beats would fit perfectly on a Flocka album, his measured delivery is remarkably similar, and the topics about hustling and trapping are interchangeable. Well, almost. When Cartel says “I’m a country ass Mexican” whipping up product in the kitchen, that’s not something Flockaveli would spit. Ethnic differences aside, they’re cut from the same cloth. What’s most remarkable to me is how well this sound has aged over the last decade plus. It’s probably the prevalence of singing rappers that did this to me (which Atlanta in many respects led the charge on) but hearing someone spit epithets like “yo’ favorite rapper pussy, he probably wearing heels” ends up being charming instead of offensive. Without Luger’s production it might fall flat. With it I’m bopping my head and appreciating a rapper who RAPS. No pitch correction required.
All of this just leaves me wondering what happened to Cartel MGM. “Down South Mex” is sandwiched within a legacy of a dozen albums that appears to have trailed off pre-pandemic. “Mafia Made 2” (also a Trap-A-Holics mixtape) from 2019 is the most recent thing I found. Did he retire? Is he working behind the scenes now instead of being a visible rap star? I don’t have the answers since it looks like I’m the only one asking the questions. Whatever the case may be this was a fun album to listen to and I know the “real trap shit” drops will make the Mrs. smile when I play this for her. I hope Cartel is doing well.