Joining a cadre of similar-sounding and conceptually cloned efforts, Foxy Brown's Chyna Doll takes its place among a field of equally mundane offerings. While Brown has shown some maturation, especially on cuts like the surprisingly personal "My Life", she's still talking about her "ill na na" ("Tramp") or making pretentious bids for big Willie (Wilma?) status ("4-5-6"). Mostly, though, Chyna Doll just sounds like any number of New York-based rap albums, especially with its commercial formula of shuffling high hats, catchy hooks, and recycled funk loops. In the end, Brown's self-exploitive (sexually and racially) cover art is likely to offer more provocative statements than the album itself. --Oliver Wang