A menacing production swallows the start of his new EP, Paranoia: A True Story, and Dave East gets straight to the point. The 808 Mafia crafts a beat fit for a phantom, tangled with warped violins and darting hi-hats. “Paranoia gettin’ the best of me/I don’t want nobody next to me,” he admits. For East, he’s assessing how far he’s come while scanning how far he has to go. With one foot on fame’s doorstep, and another rooted firmly in Harlem’s fast life, East doesn’t know who to trust—and for good reason.

After seven years of releasing mixtapes, the Harlem rapper’s buzz is growing beyond the streets. Channeling the spirit of Styles P and Jadakiss, East spews the narratives of his transformation from a Division 1 basketball player to an underground rapper. His mentor Nas signed him to Mass Appeal and he snagged a partnership with Def Jam. These two milestones alone seemed like a ticket out of the housing projects where he recorded hustler’s music like No Regrets and Gemini. But, with the recent murders of two of his cousins, it’s difficult for East to rest easy under fame’s spotlight.

A year ago, he was rapping, “Everybody keep telling me make a club record/You ain’t trappin’ no more, stop doing drug records.” This year, Paranoia attempts to merge the two. At times, East is introspective, mourning the losses of his cousin and aunt. Other times, he’s superficial, with a daily appetite for Philippe Chow. But even on his more polished efforts, he accentuates every bar, similar to the ’90s rappers he echoes. “I might have that ’dated’ flow, but I’m among all this young, wild turn up. I got the same energy,” says East, an alum of XXL’s 2016 Freshman Class alongside acts like Lil Yachty and Lil Uzi Vert. On Paranoia, East is a contortionist—flaunting his urge to be flexible, an ethos that challenges the notion that New York rap has to be all boom-bap beats.

East meets old acquaintances in the opening skit who say “I love you, boy” to his face and “Let’s get this nigga...,” once he leaves. With cynicism wrapping itself around East’s throaty delivery, paranoia courses through songs like “Wanna Be Me” and “Found a Way.” He’s seen friends turn on each other in “The Hated,” and is dodging schemers on “My Dirty Little Secret.” But the bottom of the album reveals why he’s become more paranoid over the last year and a half: his daughter Kairi Chanel. “Stash tucked away for my daughter in case them people find me,” he raps on the soulful “Have You Ever.” His unease is just a glimpse of vulnerability in a landscape where male fragility is an anomaly in street-centric rap.

Though East is in limbo, teetering between the fast pace of both worlds, his attempts at a more mainstream sound aren’t lost in translation. “Perfect,” a slow-burner with Chris Brown on the chorus, is a softer track that breaks his hardcore optics. Producer Harry Fraud lends his hand to “Maneuver,” crafting a similar horn-driven sound reminiscent of his work with French Montana’s breakout hit, “Shot Caller.” East pays homage to his mentor in its opening line, “I’m out for dead presidents to represent me,” and he and French dip and dodge on the flashy record.

True to its name, the project certainly feels like East is looking over his shoulder, but Paranoia feels a bit disjointed. The skits and interludes are drawn out and do little to drive the concept forward, and Nas’ “feature” is nothing more than him talking on the track. East has described this project as an “appetizer” for his debut album. With the machine of Def Jam behind him, East has the ability to deliver a stronger debut album. He’s made a conscious effort to withhold some stories from his come up, not just hood tales but stories of class divisions in America, told not as a gimmick on record but as reality without a mic. And judging from his work this year, he’s not running out of bars.