IV (1998)

Once upon a time, these pot-addled goofballs were the aural equivalent of wacky weed, a rap group somehow capable of making a murder threat sound like a hoot. Sadly, Cypress Hill's music has grown increasingly ponderous over time, with enervating results. While B-Real's stoned singsong rapping and DJ Muggs' ear-catching production tricks remain formidable, IV feels unnecessarily oppressive, its grim messages only occasionally leavened with flashes of the old humor. And as any viper will tell you, too much reality will bring you down quick. C+