Album Review: War Cash by CRIMEAPPLE & Evidence Delivers Raw, Relentless Hip-Hop
Album Review: War Cash by CRIMEAPPLE & Evidence Delivers Raw, Relentless Hip-Hop
Immerse yourself in the gritty realism and sharp wit of War Cash, a dynamic collaboration blending CRIMEAPPLE’s fierce storytelling with Evidence’s textured production.
A Journey Through Spending and Suspicion
Right from the jump, War Cash feels like a passport stamped with grime and grit—Marrakech one moment, Hoboken the next—like a restless traveler navigating streets and shadows. Spending and suspicion are so tightly entwined here, they might as well be roommates. Humor and malice ride shotgun, neither one willing to dial back.
CRIMEAPPLE, a New Jersey rapper of Colombian descent, has carved out a unique niche since 2017 with his rapid-fire threats layered in absurd comedy. Evidence, the mastermind behind Dilated Peoples and a staple of Rhymesayers, brings decades of expertise in crafting lean, gritty beats that perfectly complement CRIMEAPPLE’s charged delivery. Together, they’ve produced a tight, no-fluff project that makes every second count.

“Last Day” Sets the Tone with Raw Honesty
The album kicks off with “Last Day,” a track that lays everything bare. CRIMEAPPLE talks about “Kevlar everything” and keeping his life “hater-proof,” running on fuel powered by those who doubted him. His journey from dangerous routes to a life that finally “straightened out” is told without flash or flair—just cold facts and a steady flow.
He also drops a line about performing in Marrakech without a press junket, delivered with a casual shrug that’s more statement than brag. The drums here push hard and fast, matching his breathless urgency. When he raps, “no sick days in this school of thought, rather move than talk,” it hits like a personal mantra, something etched into the grain of his existence.
Greed and Loyalty Clash on “Dr. Scholl’s”
“Dr. Scholl’s” is where greed and disgust collide in a whirlwind verse. CRIMEAPPLE boasts about needing “twenty hands” to count his plugs, then flips the mood to watching “life decay” before coldly cutting ties with a gossiping friend.
This track contains one of the album’s most memorable images: graffiti on his foot inside doctor’s shoes because he “ran it up so much, I got rotten toes.” It’s a perfect blend of humor and brutal honesty about loyalty’s expiration date. Evidence’s production leaves space between bars, letting the silences carry weight. CRIMEAPPLE fills these pauses with talk of revoked memberships and caught betrayals, underscoring that he’s been “the same since the bucket with the rusty rims”—a line loaded with meaning about his unchanging nature.
Vulnerability Peeks Through on “Ventilation”
Most of War Cash’s bravado acts as armor, but on “Ventilation,” that armor cracks. CRIMEAPPLE shares how surviving storms and chasing visions hardened him, making him colder and more distant. He admits to creating “an ocean between us,” putting distance between himself and old friends who can’t even get him on the phone anymore—and he’s perfectly fine with that.
Choosing “options more tropical, maybe less logical,” he confesses gambling on crime “every single day and twice on Sunday.” It’s a blunt admission of abandonment and survival, with Evidence’s loosened instrumental making the performance feel intimate, like overhearing a private confession rather than a staged spectacle.
Geography and Grit on “Karachi”
“Karachi” turns geography into personality as CRIMEAPPLE’s product moves overseas, and he rinses “blood off cash” like a mundane chore. The flat delivery of this chilling line, “put my cash in the water, rinse the blood off,” sends a shiver without the need for punchlines.
He dances in the rain to Diplomatic Immunity, casually noting he’ll “probably be in Peru when they reading your eulogy.” Heavy drums and restless sample chops from Evidence drive this track forward with relentless momentum, while CRIMEAPPLE stacks cities like poker chips in a high-stakes game.
Blu’s Raw Spirit Shines on “Pinto”
Blu’s appearance on “Pinto” provides a piercing contrast to CRIMEAPPLE’s often guarded bravado. While CRIMEAPPLE pitches his dog food company and talks money, Blu arrives like a prayer, “omnidimensional, spirit sent from celestial,” keeping “a minimal differential” between himself and God, with a pen that’s “a pistol.”
This contrast lifts the veil on CRIMEAPPLE’s humor, revealing how much of it serves as a deflection—a barricade against vulnerability. Evidence’s sparse, loop-driven beats give both rappers the same stage, but the way each commands it couldn’t be more different.
Chasing Perfection and Hunger on “Two Left Feet”
On “Two Left Feet,” obsession and hunger bubble just beneath the surface. CRIMEAPPLE raps about perfection, setting the bar high but also acknowledging he won’t reach what he designs as “peak.”
The track weaves references to vitamins, minerals, and “cylindrical projectiles,” painting a picture of someone finely balancing survival and ambition. The percussion snaps crisply, pushing CRIMEAPPLE to fit his syllables tighter, his voice racing to stay ahead of the beat.
Discipline and Reflection in “Rio”
“Rio” steers the narrative toward discipline and a sort of spiritual devotion. CRIMEAPPLE mentions maintaining “spiritual hygiene on ten at all times,” breaking out in hives around toxic people, and a new kid at home who has reshaped his reasons for grinding.
He also nods to ancestry and struggle, thanking his older brother for teaching him the “pitfalls of hustling,” and slipping in a humble admission: fried bologna sandwiches “still hit.” That small detail reveals a lot about his roots, deeper than any flashy itinerary. Evidence’s warm, almost lounging beat lets both rappers speak more like friends chatting than performers boasting.
Closing with the Calm Routine of “Green Room”
The album closes gently in “Green Room,” shrinking the chaos into calm routine—turkey sandwiches, Diet Cokes, writing and rewriting setlists, a prayer before stepping on stage. Minutes later, CRIMEAPPLE’s counting money, the daily grind distilled into its simplest form.
The final line—calling his girl to say he’s on his way home—is the most domestic moment on the entire album, a quiet reminder that beneath all the money and menace, there’s a man with a life waiting beyond the spotlight.
Favorite Tracks:
- Ventilation
- Pinto
- Rio
“No sick days in this school of thought, rather move than talk.”
— CRIMEAPPLE, War Cash
FAQ
- What makes War Cash unique in the hip-hop scene?
War Cash stands out by blending CRIMEAPPLE’s sharp, comedic yet raw storytelling with Evidence’s gritty, nuanced production, creating a vivid, unfiltered narrative. - How does Evidence’s production influence the album’s tone?
Evidence’s lean, sample-driven beats provide space and texture, letting CRIMEAPPLE’s words breathe and the emotions resonate, from urgency to intimacy. - Who is CRIMEAPPLE, and what’s his background?
CRIMEAPPLE is a New Jersey rapper of Colombian descent known for his rapid-fire delivery and a prolific output since 2017, mixing humor and menace in his music. - What themes are explored in War Cash?
The album dives into themes of loyalty, survival, ambition, isolation, and the tension between wealth and vulnerability, all wrapped in street-wise storytelling. - Is Blu’s feature significant?
Absolutely. Blu’s appearance on “Pinto” cuts through CRIMEAPPLE’s guarded humor, exposing deeper vulnerability and spirituality, adding a profound layer to the project.
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