When CyHi the Prynce popped up on Kanye West’s “So Appalled” seven years ago, it was the product of some gutsy in-studio self-promotion. Commissioned to write a hook, the gravelly voiced Prynce claims he waited for West to fall asleep before sneak recording a full verse that made its way to the final version. Prynce signed to West’s G.O.O.D. Music label and has since stood out as one of Kanye’s most consistently credited writers.

Despite the steady writing credits and feature appearances, G.O.O.D. Music never provided a bona fide platform for CyHi the solo artist, and so he left the label in 2015 to begin the process of releasing his long-simmering debut album elsewhere. He’s remained in the label’s inner circle as an eager little brother type, always the first to announce and overpromise new Kanye and group developments. On the first track of his debut album, he raps: “Me and ‘Ye feel like Jay and Memphis Bleek to me,” weirdly glossing over (or blissfully unaware) the bleak precedent of the bungled side-kick career he’s referencing. Good for CyHi then that his first album, No Dope on Sundays, has the weight and sheen of a major label rap record. It’s got big name features and a surprisingly well-curated batch of soulful beats. Most importantly, CyHi himself feels like the center of gravity.

No Dope on Sundays begins with a trio of five and six-minute songs that vaguely scaffold the rest of the record as a hustler’s bible pinching CyHi between the church and the streets of Atlanta. Throughout the record he raps about the violence and despair of his home, implicating himself in the drama so that he might sidestep it later. The gospel boom-bap of the long-winded “Amen (Intro)” is a backdrop for CyHi to paint his origin story in borrowed strokes, comparing himself to Leonardo DiCaprio and Johnny Depp characters just a bar apart. The occasional but persistent corniness of CyHi’s punchline lyricism could be deployed as a sort of barometer amongst hip-hop fans. What do you think when he raps a line like “My homies was crippin’ so hard, all they eat is seafood”? Or, “The only time you got the goosebumps was at a book drive”?

For all the groan-inducing puns and double entendres (”Moving weight, I’m a fat guy”), CyHi is a thoroughly slick rapper and storyteller, as capable of a tidy snapshot as he is prone to an overwrought windup. “They’ll trade a cigarette and Mountain Dew for a statement,” he growls succinctly, denouncing snitches on “Trick Me.” He has a rasp that can sound warm and husky or icy and snarling, a versatility he stretches throughout No Dope On Sundays. Those early tracks are barrage attacks of lyricism, whereas moments like “Movin’ Around” and “Trick Me” cast CyHi as a more than serviceable hook singer. Still, he hasn’t quite weeded out a certain stiffness in these crossover attempts and gets noticeably upstaged when 2 Chainz swoops into the stuttery banger and steals the show with a looser and more fun verse. Later, on “Looking for Love,” CyHi sounds entirely in his range belting out an Autotune tinged hook or leaning in during his verse to croon, “I can’t wait to put some purses on you, girl.” Kanye West tags along on “Dat Side” for a wonky banger and the album’s obvious centerpiece moneymaker.

For all the bases it covers, No Dope on Sundays benefits from swift pacing. But there are still moments where CyHi gets bogged down doing too much and too little at the same time, coddling a story you’ve heard before or quipping a one-liner you can predict a mile away. After his verse on the title track, Pusha T thanks CyHi for granting him the quiet of an inconspicuous feature. “I was tryna’ make it as conversational as possible, ‘cause it’s just conversation,” the elder emcee says after clocking a gracefully minimal performance. CyHi doesn’t have that conversational approachability to his raps. He sounds like a showman that puffs out his words with a deliberate, almost suspicious confidence. No Dope on Sundays sounds like the routine he’s been waiting years to finally deliver.