"Try Me" was aight, but the real reason it blew up was the dissonance of a small young woman talkin about catching bodies in the context of a shimmering pop-rap single. Rock bands been usin this tactic forever (e.g. the sizable subgenre of sunshine pop songs with suicidal lyricals), but outside of MS. LOAF and cocksure kiddie-rappers, the juxtaposition of two or more dissimilar, seemingly contradictory, elements is a relatively untapped technique in the world of rap.
"Cement Shoes" is one such exception. A copacetic DJ SPANISH FLY yawns thru murder threatz and braggadociery, but this ain't the kind of Memphis stomper one comes to expect. It's hypnotic and warm, more dream than nightmare, the kind of shit that make u wanna catch some Zzzzzs and bound thru the clouds but also drop some stoolies into the river before you take that dreamscape siesta. Fly repeats "cee-ment shoes, cee-ment shoes, cee-ment shoes!" like a Mansonian mantra, whilst drawing on the phrase's concise evocation of America's urban-industrial underbelly and the nexus of allusions intrinsic to its unique configuration of eight letters: the pop-history of Palisades body dumps, Dick Tracy vs. Flattop Jones, the brute poetry co-written by Edward G. Robinson and Bugs Moran.
A true innovator in the worlds of music and style, Fly pioneered the Hawaiian shirts, clashing patterns, tube socks, and tiny shorts look later favored by TYLER, THE CREATOR. Style experts may argue the jheri curl amidst all these elements makes the look too busy, but I think of it as the cherry on top of an advanced wardrobe.