hen Ray Cash broke through with his first national hit last year, "Sex Appeal (Pimp in My Own Mind)," the song seemed unlikely to bust the Ohio rapper out of Midwest hip-hop's middle of the road and put Cleveland back on the map for the first time since Bone Thugs-N-Harmony's peak. The pimp slappin' anthem was catchy, just a little bawdier than the average Nelly jam, and with more bump than Twista's hits, but not really anything to build a career on. But recently, Cash proved skeptics wrong by following it up with an even bigger hit, "Bumpin' My Music," an affectionate ode to the CDs in his car stereo, bolstered by a Scarface cameo and a killer beat by Bay Area monster Rick Rock.

Lean and bespectacled, Ray Cash cuts an unimpressive figure, which makes all the tough talk on Cash on Delivery a little hard to swallow. T.I. is a skinny little dude too, but he's got a low, defiant snarl to help pull off his ruthless image. Ray raps in a casual, personable drawl, something like a less nasal Pimp C. In fact, on the "D Boy Anthem" interlude, he sings a few bars a cappella, sounding like a surprisingly capable blues singer.

Nonetheless, Cash on Delivery sports perhaps more unapologetic dope boy rhymes than any release coming out of Atlanta at the moment. And while songs like "Dope Game" come off like just another shallow celebration of the trap, Cash comes up with a fresh perspective on "Fiends, Fiends, Fiends." Paralleling the dealer's reliance on the drug trade with the addictions of their clientele, he confesses "my habit was dough / You got a need, I got a need / I'm addicted to weed."

Cash is at his best on the boldly political "Fuck Amerikkka." Beginning with a skit that places Cash as a courtroom defendant, he calmly pleads his case, explaining how the environment black Americans grow up in lead them to lives of crime, in one long, uninterrupted verse. Gradually the bile rises in his throat, as he growls "you might as well get a tree and a rope for me" to the judge. It's not anything Ice Cube didn't say over a decade ago, but it's a refreshingly visceral moment among somewhat rote material like "Smokin' & Leanin'."

Cash may occasionally make a boring track or fail to impress, but he never slips up and makes a wack song, and there's plenty to slowly discover during a cruise through the album. From the bittersweet introspection and head-nodding B.B. King sample on "Livin' My Life," to the swagger and slick sense of humor on display on "She A G," to the riveting finale, "Here I Stand," Cash has crafted a solid record full of highlights.

If Cash on Delivery has any weakness, though, it's that Cash wears too many hats without carving out an identity all his own. He apes West coast G-funk with the George Clinton-sampling "The Bomb," and follows Southern styles on tracks like "P.A.N.", with its Bun B guest verse and Pastor Troy hook. On "Better Way," Cash even nails a Roc-A-Fella-style hopeful ballad, complete with a guest verse from Beanie Sigel and a soulful beat from State Property producer Chad Hamilton. If "Bumpin' My Music" makes anything clear, it's that Cash is a student of all kinds of hip-hop, engaging with each style sincerely and ably. But little of the album feels like it couldn't have been made by anyone else, and Cash needs to do better than that to really leave his mark.