Over the decades, we’ve watched Snoop Dogg go through nearly as many costume changes as Madonna. Gangbanger Snoop, No Limit Southern-rap Snoop, pop star Snoop, “Drop It Like It’s Hot” Snoop, “Sensual Seduction” Snoop, “Snoop Lion”—sometimes those sonic and aesthetic remixes have worked, other times not so much. With Coolaid, arguably Snoop’s first *real *hip-hop album in half a decade, we find his reinvention back into “Rapper Snoop” to be a bit wobbly.

On 2011’s Doggumentary, it sounded like Snoop was losing steam; much of it felt like a rehashing of previous bad ideas. “Snoop Lion” emerged shortly thereafter. By 2014, he reverted back from “Lion” to “Dogg” and dropped the plush party-funk of Bush, which toed the line of hip-hop without actually crossing it. Here on *Coolaid *we return to the Snoop D-O-Double-G, the hard, cold rhymer we met on “Deep Cover.” He hinted at this return to ferocity on the track “One Shot One Kill” with Jon Connor, from Dr. Dre’s 2015 Compton project. That song was like a turning point-turned-duel between the old Snoop and the new Snoop, and thankfully the old Snoop won.

With Coolaid, though, we reach another crossroads. A lot has changed since Rapper Snoop was at the forefront, so there is much more for him to prove here. Before he can let his skills speak for themselves, he has to first declare his status on the aptly titled opener “Legend.” Producer Bongo brings a trappish sort of beat, the kind of thing might have served another current rapper better; it’s perfect to recite three or four garbled words over. But Snoop opts instead to recite a very clear and dull laundry list of ways he's legendary. He shows us rather than tells us that on “Ten Toes Down,” where we get classic Snoop in rare form over a West Coast-leaning beat by Los. Just Blaze makes some odd production choices on “Super Crip,” which sounds like Iggy Azalea’s “Fancy” at the top before erupting into quintessential Blaze by the middle. Snoop rides those waves fairly adeptly.

Pseudo title track “Coolaid Man” targets all the neophyte soundalike rappers, and at certain points you can almost hear the greys growing in Snoop’s goatee. It’s not that he’s *lying *about the extent of his influence, but for a legend who is so technically capable at seamlessly switching styles, the finger-wagging isn’t necessary. Junior partner Wiz Khalifa pops up twice: on the lukewarm “Oh Na Na” and the marginally better “Kush Ups,” where the two play perfectly well off each other’s energy. “Double Tap” carries a classic tune with E-40 and Jazze Pha, but lines like “slide off in yo DMs” make it the dadbod anthem of the year. “What If” saves the #TBT day, as fellow elder Suga Free and Snoop both bless the track with immaculate convertible-ride music.

Then, when you least expect it, “Revolution” comes, and it's almost as if the rest of the 19 indifferent tracks on the excessively long Coolaid don’t even matter. Just Blaze brings a soaring, immaculate beat (on par with Beyoncé’s “Freedom”) and lo and behold, fiery Snoop arrives. The lyrics, the cadence, the anger, the pure and convincing “fuck you I'm a legend” energy. It all sounds so believable, so why did it take so long for Coolaid to get there? An entire project full of Snoop chanting that he's the greatest, and all it took was one isolated track to prove it.