The rap world at-large first heard Ka spitting gravel on GZA’s “Firehouse,” a fitting introduction for the New York city fireman. He flows like one too, a no-frills, immediate attack. Voice like a pack of burnt matches, syllable placement as precise as his fellow brethren, Roc Marciano. See also, “We Do It,” where Ka and Marcberg kick blizzard homicide raps.
“Cold Facts” is the opposite of ornate. It’s stripped down, 90s-rooted New York rap that has no oxygen in its world view for anything that originated outside the five boroughs, plus Strong Isle. Nor does it try to be nostalgic. It has no time to squander. Just the facts.
