This is actually an album, and a damn good one at that. Hailing from Goldsboro, NC, T.E.E and T-Quail have somehow managed to take two completely different life paths and turn them into a cohesive, deeply personal project that smacks you in the face with raw emotion, introspection, and just the right amount of “I’m better than you” energy. And if you thought this was going to be some clean, polished, radio-friendly attempt at hip-hop, then congratulations: you are completely wrong. This project is a grimy, unapologetic, freestyle-heavy explosion of bars and atmosphere that feels like it was forged in the golden era of early TDE. Think Ab-Soul before he got cryptic beyond comprehension, or Schoolboy Q when he was still rapping like he was an underdog who had something to prove. That’s the energy we’re dealing with here.
The production? Absolutely dripping with West Coast grit. Murky bass? Check. Sinister, soul-sample-infused beats? Double-check. It’s like the artist reached into a 2012-era time capsule, pulled out the DNA of Control System and Habits & Contradictions and somehow managed to make it feel both nostalgic and fresh at the same time. That’s not an easy thing to pull off.
With 11 tracks that bounce between structured songs and wild, off-the-cuff freestyles, this album is like if early TDE got transported to the Carolinas and decided to just go for it. It’s the perfect backdrop for these two to spill their guts.
From the very first track, you know these guys are coming from different angles. T.E.E takes the thoughtful, philosophical route, while T-Quail brings the unfiltered street realism. But instead of clashing, they somehow manage to blend their styles in a way that feels natural, like two sides of the same coin that just so happens to rap extremely well. Different perspectives, same core struggle, and it works.
Now, let’s talk about lyrics. If you’re looking for perfectly structured songs with catchy hooks, you are, once again, completely in the wrong place. Assassin’s Creed thrives on its raw, off-the-cuff energy. One moment, the artist is delivering deep introspection about life’s struggles; the next, they’re flexing with braggadocious confidence like they just won a freestyle battle you didn’t even know was happening.
And then there’s the freestyles, scattered across the album like loot in a game that actually respects your time and makes one thing crystal clear: T.E.E and T-Quail couldn’t care less about industry rules. No algorithm-friendly hooks, no forced viral moments; just raw, unfiltered bars flying at you like they’ve got something to prove (spoiler: they don’t, but they do anyway). Their chemistry is effortless, the energy undeniable, and in a world where half the rap game sounds like it was A/B tested for maximum playlist potential, this album is a much-needed reminder that sometimes, people make music just because they can.
Now, if you need every song neatly gift-wrapped with a catchy hook and a perfect structure, you might struggle here. Some tracks feel more like raw, unfiltered energy than traditional songs. But that’s exactly what makes it great. It’s messy, it’s unpredictable, and it actually feels alive.
At its core, Assassin’s Creed is a testament to two artists navigating the same world from different perspectives and landing in the same place: making one of the most compelling hip-hop projects of the year. T.E.E and T-Quail don’t care about algorithms, charts, or whether you think it should be more refined. This is a love letter to an era where skill mattered more than branding, where freestyles weren’t TikTok promos, and where raw talent carried a project. If you miss that era, this album is for you.
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About the Author
A tenured media critic known working as a ghost writer, freelance critic for publications in the US and former lead writer of Atop The Treehouse. Reviews music, film and TV shows for media aggregators.
