Like any good soldier, Master P's got stories to tell. Like a wounded, slightly delusional veteran, P tells tales that are redundant, preposterous, and just no fun to listen to. Ghetto Postage is his seventh solo album. More troublingly, it's the third since his promised retirement to focus on running his various business interests and improving his basketball game. What three years ago were novel sounds (thick, quick, brassy funk with a potent bass edge) and styles (Tupac-influenced wheezing and decidedly lumpy flows)--no longer carry much sonic weight. P seems aware of this, expanding into slightly new territory on the uninspired chick paean "My Babooski," and the way-too-conceited "'B' I Like," on which he boasts of his ability to steal women away from their men. After listening to Ghetto Postage, any self-respecting female wouldn't give P the time of day. He makes everything sound clunky. With his vocals murky like they were recorded over a pay phone, whatever distinct personality he has is skewered. The only moment of interest comes on the Snoop Dogg-featuring "Poppin' Them Collars," which, in true P fashion, bites the latest slang and claims it as his own. For P and No Limit, the freshest move possible is to hop on the next bandwagon, now that their own has long since been junked. --Jon Caramanica