Rick Ross: with a blend of streetwise flair and no-holds-barred reportage, he's putting the fire into Miami's red-hot hip-hop scene

To call Rick Ross imposing is to criminally understate. Big (6-foot-1), burly (300 pounds), with a precision-groomed beard, wraparound shades, and tree-trunk arms inked with guns, marijuana, and proverbs, the rapper from Miami's Carol City neighborhood looks like the rock-slinging hustlers he salutes on his debut, Port of Miami (Slip-N-Slide/Def Jam). Then Ross whips off his sunglasses and reveals velvet-lashed orbs straight out of a Keane painting: eyes too soft for the 'hood and big with seeing. "I'm clarifying not glorifying," says the rapper, born William Roberts, of his songs about the hot streets of "M-I-Yayo"'s inner city, far from the glamour of Ocean Drive.

Drugs, guns, dollars: There they are, etched in Ross's flesh and projected in his raps. On tracks such as the anthem "Hustlin'" and the Scarface-quoting "Push It," Ross mixes the party drawl of crunk with gangsta rap's gritty lore. But given that 24 Miami-Dade County youths were slain in the first 28 weeks of 2006, Port of Miami's graphic depictions of violence could be seen as either recklessly ill-timed or bluntly to the point. "It's that poverty, that lifestyle," says Ross, who named himself after the L.A. gang legend who reputedly brought crack to the streets. "For me it's all about trying to bring as much attention and light to the city as I can."

Evelyn McDonnell is the pop culture writer for the Miami Herald and the author of the upcoming book, Mamarama.

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