Ultra-prolific South Side native David Cohn (Serengeti) is a modest MC. As he raps in "California," he's "one of 10 acts at a venue called hell." But there's nothing quite like this album in the hip-hop spectrum. Leaping from the abstract to the transparent in the space of a few words, Serengeti sounds like the guy at the end of the bar conversing with his friends. As the night rolls on, the conversation turns surreal, plaintive, pock-marked with stories about junkies, failed fathers, even a mixed-martial arts fighter. Seemingly tossed-off lines ("Maybe he could've opened his own gym"; "She mixed paint at Menard's") open doors to vivid storytelling. The homemade beats sneak up on you the same way.