Master P may not be much of a rapper, actor, NBA player, sports agent, writer, producer, or director, but at least he's consistent, regularly pumping out product that's awful in the most predictable and arbitrary way imaginable. The ever-enterprising P might have been tempted to use his status as one of hip hop's most powerful men to hire outside artists and producers to make his work sound sleek and competent—much the way Puff Daddy did on his otherwise lousy last album. But P sticks to the basics on Only God Can Judge Me, featuring the same monotonous production, charmless flossing, and unconvincing introspection that's made him the king of hip-hop quantity, if not quality. If anything, P's first solo album since his "retirement" is even lazier and more listless than his previous work. On the title track and others, P barely even raps, instead listlessly speaking in a lazy, seemingly improvised drawl. Other songs are almost entirely devoid of structure, matching the stagnant work of in-house producer Carlos Stephens to dull, unrelated, seemingly random raps from P and his army of No Limit flunkies. P makes like Puffy all over Only God Can Judge Me, stealing phrase after phrase from 2Pac and chanting "mo' money, mo' problems" on the chorus of "Y'all Don't Know," as if he'd never heard the ubiquitous 1997 summer anthem. The album will probably make a fortune, but few need to be told that money and popularity often have little to do with quality.