RICK ROSS: MIAMI HUSTLER

Port of Miami is a vibrant portrait of getting by and living high in the cocaine-rich ''M-I-Yay-O.'' Amid grimy, slow-rolling beats, Ross comes on like a Southern 50 Cent, mixing up mesmerizing, laid-back flows, gangsta threats and melodic choruses while rhyming with cinematic detail about moving coke by the case, flashing $100,000 bracelets and toting ''mo' guns than The Matrix.'' ''I'm bridging the gap between the South and the East Coast,'' Ross says. ''The sound is real Dirty South. But I'm spittin' hard, to where the East Coast appreciates it.''

Rolling through downtown Miami in a BMW 550 (after leaving his cream-colored Rolls-Royce Phantom back at the condo), Ross reaches into the car's armrest compartment and shows off a reminder of his criminal past: an Israeli-made .50 Desert Eagle that cost $2,000 and must weigh five pounds. Growing up in Carol City, a suburb of tiny, rundown houses where crack was prevalent, Ross started dealing weed in high school, then began selling cocaine, crack and heroin.

Ross won't say how big a player he was in Miami's powder trade, but he became well-off at various times during his twenties: He bought his first house at age twenty-one and owned the Phantom plus an S-5 Mercedes, a Chevy Cheetah and a 1972 Caprice Classic before the Def Jam deal. Some of the money came from business investments: Poe Boy Entertainment, condos he bought and rented out, a lawn-care service he started, plus a company that paints advertisements on cars. But Ross' street dealings gave him plenty of fodder for his rhymes. ''I witnessed murders. Thank God I wasn't involved. But I knew they was gonna happen," says Ross. ''I've witnessed a robbery or two. But I don't want to incriminate myself. I don't want to make the prosecutors happy."