The Chronic

1	The Chronic (Intro) / Snoop Dogg 1:57
2	Fuck Wit Dre Day (And Everybody's Celebratin') / Jewell 4:52
3	Let Me Ride / Jewell 4:21
4	The Day the Niggaz Took Over / RBX 4:33
5	Nuthin' But a "G" Thang / Snoop Dogg 3:58
6	Deeez Nuuuts / Nate Dogg 5:06
7	Lil' Ghetto Boy / Snoop Dogg 5:29
8	A Nigga Witta Gun / Snoop Dogg 3:52
9	Rat-Tat-Tat-Tat / Snoop Dogg 3:48
10	The $20 Sack Pyramid / Big Tittie Nickie 2:53
11	Lyrical Gangbang / Rage 4:04
12	High Powered / Rage 2:44
13	The Doctor's Office / Rage 1:04
14	Stranded on Death Row / Rage 4:47
15	The Roach (The Chronic Outro) / Rage 4:36
16	Bitches Ain't Shit / Kurupt 4:47

Barnes & Noble

Dr. Dre, a.k.a. Andre Young, may not be a great rapper, but the skillful producer put his mark on hip-hop with a string of classic albums culminating in this "solo" debut. Dre started off in the right place at the right time. A member of N.W.A. and producer of their most infamous recordings, Straight Outta Compton and Niggaz 4 Life, Dre split with Eazy E and began working on his own material, often with guests rapping. After dropping his debut single, "Deep Cover" (the title track from the same-named movie), he responded with his opus The Chronic. Dre took gangsta rap's typically frenetic backing and slowed it down to George Clinton–esque R&B; he smoothed it out by adding touches of lite jazz, and the G-Funk sound was born. While it irrevocably altered the hip-hop landscape upon its release in 1992, The Chronic is equally notable for launching the career of Snoop Doggy Dogg, who appears on several key tracks, including "Nuthin' but a 'G' Thang." Snoop would go on to a notable career of his own, kicked off by his Dre-produced debut, Doggystyle, but his irresistible presence on The Chronic only underscores Dre's formidable skills as a producer -- which would later play no small role the arrival and development of a young white rapper named Eminem. Martin Johnson

All Music Guide

With its stylish, sonically detailed production, Dr. Dre's 1992 solo debut, The Chronic, transformed the entire sound of West Coast rap. Here Dre established his patented G-funk sound: fat, blunted Parliament-Funkadelic beats, soulful backing vocals, and live instruments in the rolling basslines and whiny synths. What's impressive is that Dre crafts tighter singles than his inspiration, George Clinton -- he's just as effortlessly funky, and he has a better feel for a hook, a knack that improbably landed gangsta rap on the pop charts. But none of The Chronic's legions of imitators were as rich in personality, and that's due in large part to Dre's monumental discovery, Snoop Doggy Dogg. Snoop livens up every track he touches, sometimes just by joining in the chorus -- and if The Chronic has a flaw, it's that his relative absence from the second half slows the momentum. There was nothing in rap quite like Snoop's singsong, lazy drawl (as it's invariably described), and since Dre's true forte is the producer's chair, Snoop is the signature voice. He sounds utterly unaffected by anything, no matter how extreme, which sets the tone for the album's misogyny, homophobia, and violence. The Rodney King riots are unequivocally celebrated, but the war wasn't just on the streets; Dre enlists his numerous guests in feuds with rivals and ex-bandmates. Yet The Chronic is first and foremost a party album, rooted not only in '70s funk and soul, but also that era's blue party comedy, particularly Dolemite. Its comic song intros and skits became prerequisites for rap albums seeking to duplicate its cinematic flow; plus, Snoop and Dre's terrific chemistry ensures that even their foulest insults are cleverly turned. That framework makes The Chronic both unreal and all too real, a cartoon and a snapshot. No matter how controversial, it remains one of the greatest and most influential hip-hop albums of all time. Steve Huey