The beats on Capital Punishment, from RZA, Rockwilder, Domingo, and other A-list maestros, are grimy, radio- friendly, yet low-ley cutting-edge, affirming its status as an undisputed classic. Big Pun was as much a visionary — conceptualizing every song — as a consummate pro in the booth. Citing Picasso and Baby Jesus while purporting to “twist your temples into pretzels,” Pun made Minute Rice out of multi-syllables. There’s no way to describe Pun’s febrile liberties with the king’s English. He doesn’t really breathe; when he does, it’s a sharp gasp for air that almost mimics his Ginsu-like wordplay. Pun’s habit of sucking wind before spitting an ill verse mimics the effect of a lit grenade about to land and decimate entire sections of the population. If Pun’s dense rhymes invoke mixed metaphors, that’s likely because he’s an impossible amalgam of wanton wooer and lyrical hitman, an overweight lover with a murderous mouthpiece.[info sheet from distr.]