It’s been a short while since Bambu’s last solo album, and he’s claiming that this will be his last. He vows to keep up with his collaborative projects, such as The Bar with Prometheus Brown of Blue Scholars and Native Guns with fellow L.A. emcee Kiwi. Time will tell is if this truly is the last solo record out of Bambu, but if it is, he certainly gave a hell of an effort to go out on.

It doesn’t take long for Bambu to establish his voice on the record. The opening track, “Bronze Watch,” produced by B-Roc, sets a serious and deliberate tone as Bambu discusses his frustrations with violence between minorities in his neighborhood in L.A. As he later spells out on the back to back songs, “Pops,” and then “Moms,” Bambu didn’t have it easy growing up as the child of Pilipino immigrants, dealing with poverty, violence, substance abuse, and discrimination. He was fortunate enough to make it through to the other side, and he focuses much of his rhymes discussing the issues that effect his community, especially trying to educate others about systematic problems that keep people down. He doesn’t do this from a pedestal, as he lived through it himself and he knows what people are going through. He’s very open about himself, and it’s not as though he doesn’t have conflicted feelings, especially when it comes to violence. I appreciate that he gets into it, though, even taking the time to explain the title of his record. I’m always hesitant to advocate the use of violence, which was a problem I had with the first album he did with Prometheus Brown - that they discussed taking up arms but never really explained why. Here, Bambu explains in detail over much of the album what the struggle is in L.A., especially against the police, and why he feels it necessary for each family to hold a rifle. I’m not with him 100%, but I can certainly appreciate where he’s coming from.

Of course, all this would be moot if Bambu wasn’t a talented emcee capable of making music that caught your ears in the first place. Bambu has the technical skills to change his flow several times over the course of the album, and he gets some great production work from the likes of Jake One, Fatgums, Esta, B-Roc, Justo, Colby Evans, OJ, Dirty Diggs, Lefty, and others. What really sets this album apart, though, is Bambu’s personal prose, whether it’s the personal details of his family life and their struggles, or the harrowing storytelling that occurs in “Massacre,” which details an absolutely terrifying incident in the Phillipines. He’s also very quick to remind everybody how to connect the dots between the small and big picture, such as on his great collaboration with Killer Mike, “Upset the Setup.”

My only real complaint about one rifle is that at twenty tracks long, I think we could lose a couple of tracks to make the album a more coherent listening experience. There’s no glaring weak spots, but it could have been made just a little tighter.

It’s tough to come out from underneath systematic oppression, and Bambu knows that better than anybody. He even states on the record that he knows that music is only part of the equation, that we need to get organized within our communities to make things better, and he’s working on that as well. At the same time, though, music like the hip hop that Bambu is laying down helps spread that awareness while also delivering an album that bangs, and that’s not something to take for granted.