You will never catch BLACASTAN rocking a mullet or a neon cardigan. Blacastan will never duet with a boy band or auto-tune his lyrics. His sound is not only the past, but a glimpse of an unpaved lane on the highway to hip hop's holy land, the physical embodiment of this rap shit the way it was meant to be heard. The second coming of the shit you used to watch @ 4:30 PM on BET in 1994. Classic material.