Since his last major-label release, 2015’s Dreams Worth More Than Money, Meek Mill has been anything but silent. He put out a two-part EP (4/4), and fired up an assortment of beefs with Drake, the Game, Joe Budden, and 50 Cent. The largest course, of course, was with Drake, a Mean Girls meme-war that left Meek’s credibility so pummeled that fast-food chains felt safe enough to roast him. Even his MMG Boss Rick Ross distanced himself from his once proud protege (“I never took an L back when Meek fell…”). If nothing else, his next LP would be his best chance to define the next chapter in his story.

But that LP, DC4, inspires more questions than answers. It’s ostensibly a mixtape, but it’s for sale on iTunes, suggesting the samples were cleared. Conceptually, it’s the fourth in his Dreamchasers series, a concept that defines both his side ventures and his identity. Meek’s struggle is quintessentially American. With the deck stacked against him from day one, his American Dream was laser-focused on climbing out of the South Philadelphia ghetto that claimed his father’s life. His Philly heroes in the State Property crew rapped as tough as they looked, and his hip-hop education played out on street corners.

He brings that energy to every one of his songs, and DC4 is no different. Taking a cue from Nas & Puffy, he starts off with nothing less dramatic than the “O Fortuna”-sampling “On the Regular,” produced by Lex Luger protege MP808. The opening bars serve as a prologue for the rest of the record, listing the things he will rap about: selling dope, going to court, wearing jewelry, drinking alcohol, having sex, smoking high-quality marijuana. Or as he puts it, “Stickin’ to the basics.”

And if there’s a knock on Meek, it’s just that—he’s basic. Struggle rappers are constantly underestimated, dropping countless releases, scrapping for every ounce of recognition they can get. After more than a dozen releases, Meek Mill is really just a struggle rapper that made it. If he started from the bottom, now that he’s here, what else does he have to say?

Not much, it turns out. Meek’s beat selection has always been impressive, especially considering his prolific output. And DC4 may have benefitted further from the relatively delayed release; The track list is loaded from top to bottom with bangers from young producers such as Sound M.O.B. (“Litty”) and the 808 Mafia. The features are a good indication of the sound he’s adopted, with guest appearances from Lil Uzi Vert, Young Thug, 21 Savage, and Migos’ Quavo. He takes a welcome left turn with the blues-guitar driven “Blue Notes,” built off a Snowy White sample, and puts on up-and-coming R&B crooner Guordan Banks with the Pusha T-featuring “Two Wrongs.”

But when it comes to his rhymes, there’s little variety in his style. No matter the tone or mood of the beat he’s rhyming over, his rhymes are yelled rather than rapped. He’s 2016’s version of Bad Boy’s “Madd Rapper”—mad cuz he’s not getting enough “Shine,” mad cuz he didn’t get a tweet from the game’s biggest star. His energy at shows, honed from years of street-corner battles, is infectious. But on record, with his volume always cranked to 10, it really only works in small doses. And while he’s capable of detail-rich narratives, he never manages to focus on any one thought long enough to say anything of substance. Even the serial story of “Tony Story 3” is mired in hoary gangsta tropes.

On DC4, Meek Mill is caught between his old life and his new one. His history with actual “gangsta shit” may have boosted his credibility—and profile—but now, it seems to be holding him back. He’s still prone to the occasional exhibition of garden-variety homophobia, but at least since he’s been in a relationship with Nicki Minaj, there’s been a noticeable reduction in misogyny. He almost certainly would love to graduate from his tough-guy street persona, but it’s as if he feels his core audience won’t let him. “You can't be hard all the time, man,” he told Billboard in an interview last year. “There's both sides to everything. What's wrong with it? Jay Z was a street rapper and he had a girlfriend.”

He’s clearly thinking about how these pieces of his life fit into the larger struggle, but DC4 merely hints at powerful, ugly truths. The album’s cover is a collage of court documents (including his plea agreement) and a mug shot of an 18-year-old Meek, his face bandaged and eye swollen after a beat down from black cops. But he went harder on Funkmaster Flex’s Hot 97 show than he does on record, eloquently questioning the morality of the prison system and Flint’s poisoned water. Time will tell if Meek’s legacy outlasts the embarrassing Drake episode, as the only questions DC4 has answered are related to how he’d like his famous friends to promote his new record. But as an MC, Meek’s considerable potential remains untapped.