When people talk about the greatest hip-hop albums of the 90s, they usually drift toward New York or LA. It's almost a reflex. You hear the names Biggie, Pac, or Nas. But if you were anywhere near the Gulf Coast in 1997, you knew better. You knew that Brad Jordan, better known as Scarface, had just dropped a monolith. Scarface The Untouchable album didn't just cement his legacy; it basically redefined what Southern lyricism could look like when it stopped trying to prove itself to the coasts and just leaned into its own darkness.
It’s heavy.
I mean that literally and metaphorically. The production is thick, muddy, and menacing. It sounds like a Houston humidity that won't let you breathe. Released on March 11, 1997—ironically just days after the tragic passing of The Notorious B.I.G.—the record felt like an eerie, somber companion to a grieving culture. It was the first time a solo Houston artist really grabbed the industry by the throat and forced a "platinum" conversation.
The Sound of 1997 Houston
Most folks remember "Smile." How could you not? It’s arguably the most famous track on the project, featuring a posthumous verse from Tupac Shakur. Honestly, the song is haunting. You have two of the most introspective, death-obsessed rappers in history sharing a track while one of them is already gone. Mike Dean and Tone Capone handled the bulk of the production here, and they leaned heavily into live instrumentation. We aren't talking about thin, tinny MIDI beats. We’re talking about basslines that feel like they’re vibrating in your chest cavity.
Scarface wasn't just rapping about selling drugs or being a "gangsta" in the cartoonish sense. He was dealing with the psychic weight of that life. It’s "Southern Noir." It’s gloomy.
Take a track like "Mary Jane." It’s a classic trope—the metaphor for marijuana—but Scarface delivers it with a weary, gravelly tone that makes it feel less like a party song and more like a necessary medication for a man who has seen too much. He sounded tired. Not "I need a nap" tired, but "I've lived three lifetimes" tired. That’s the core of Scarface The Untouchable album. It’s the sound of a man who won the war but lost his soul in the process.
Technical Mastery and the Death of the "Country" Stigma
Before this era, Southern rappers were often dismissed as "country" or "simple." Critics in New York would laugh at the accents. Scarface ended that. His flow on this album is a masterclass in breath control and pocket-dwelling. He doesn’t need to do triple-time rap to impress you. He just hits every syllable with the weight of a sledgehammer.
💡 You might also like: Is Steven Weber Leaving Chicago Med? What Really Happened With Dean Archer
The guest list was curated perfectly too. You had Daz Dillinger, Roger Troutman, and the Outlawz. It bridged the gap between the South and the West Coast at a time when the "East vs. West" war had left a vacuum in the middle of the country.
- "Intro" – Sets the mood. Dark.
- "Untouchable" – The title track is pure arrogance backed by a sinister groove.
- "No Warning" – This is Face at his most aggressive. It’s a reminder that while he’s introspective, he’s still the guy from the Geto Boys who would take your head off.
- "Money and the Power" – A staple. It explores the cyclical nature of the hustle.
The album eventually went Platinum. That was a massive deal for Rap-A-Lot Records. It proved that J. Prince’s empire could compete with Bad Boy or Death Row without compromising the "Texas" of it all. They didn't change the sound to fit the radio; the radio eventually had to change to fit them.
The Philosophical Weight of the Lyrics
Face has always been the "philosopher of the streets." On this record, he spends a lot of time looking in the mirror. He’s "The Untouchable," but he feels every bit of the pain around him. It’s a paradox. You see it in the lyrics of "Sunshine," where he’s trying to find a glimmer of hope in a neighborhood that feels like a trap.
He talks about mental health before it was a buzzword in hip-hop. He talks about depression. He talks about the paranoia of being at the top.
"I'm seein' vultures in my sleep, I'm seein' demons in my bed."
That’s not your average 1997 boast. That’s a cry for help disguised as a street anthem. It’s why people still listen to this record when they’re going through something. It’s "thug therapy."
📖 Related: Is Heroes and Villains Legit? What You Need to Know Before Buying
Why "Smile" Changed Everything
We have to go back to "Smile." The video, directed by Paul Hunter, featured a Tupac lookalike on a cross. It was controversial. It was provocative. But the song itself? It’s beautiful. Johnny P’s vocals on the hook provide a soulful contrast to the grim verses. It’s the emotional centerpiece of the whole project.
People forget that Scarface was one of the few artists who could truly hold his own next to Pac. Their styles were different—Pac was fire and passion, Face was ice and observation—but they shared a common thread of tragic realism. When you listen to that track on Scarface The Untouchable album, you’re hearing the peak of 90s storytelling.
Impact on the Southern Hip-Hop Tree
Without this album, do we get the sprawling, cinematic albums from T.I., Jeezy, or even Rick Ross? Maybe. But they wouldn't look the same. Scarface gave the South permission to be serious. He showed that you could be from Houston and be a "lyricist's lyricist."
He influenced everyone. Biggie famously called Scarface one of his favorite rappers. Think about that. The King of New York was looking to the "Untouchable" for inspiration.
The production style also pioneered the use of eerie, high-pitched synths and heavy Moog basslines that would become the blueprint for the "Dirty South" sound. It wasn't the "bling bling" era yet. This was the "black leather and rainy nights" era.
Breaking Down the Production
- The Mike Dean Factor: Before he was Kanye West’s right-hand man, Mike Dean was perfecting the art of the Southern synth in Houston. His work on this album is legendary. He brought a rock-and-roll sensibility to the hip-hop tracks, using guitars and keyboards to create a "wall of sound."
- N.O. Joe: Another unsung hero of the Houston sound. Joe’s ability to layer soulful samples over hard-hitting drums gave Face the perfect canvas.
- Tone Capone: He brought that Bay Area "mobb music" influence, which blended seamlessly with the Texas "screw" aesthetic.
The result? A project that feels like a single, cohesive thought rather than a collection of singles. It's an "album" in the truest sense of the word. You can't just shuffle it. You have to experience the descent into Brad Jordan's psyche from start to finish.
👉 See also: Jack Blocker American Idol Journey: What Most People Get Wrong
Misconceptions About the Project
A lot of younger fans think Scarface is just "that guy from the Geto Boys." They think he’s just about "Mind Playing Tricks on Me." That’s a mistake. While the Geto Boys gave him his start, his solo run—specifically from The Diary to The Untouchable—is where he became a god.
Some critics at the time felt the album was too long or too dark. Looking back from 2026, those "flaws" are actually its strengths. In an age of two-minute viral songs designed for social media, a sprawling, 50-minute meditation on mortality feels like a luxury. It’s a steak dinner in a world of fast food.
How to Appreciate This Album Today
If you’re coming to this record for the first time, don't expect a club banger. Don't expect "Back Then" or "Still Tippin'." This is different.
Listen for the nuances. Listen to the way his voice cracks slightly when he talks about his mother. Listen to the way the bassline in "Southside" seems to drag just a millisecond behind the beat to create that "lean" feeling.
It’s also worth noting the business side. Scarface was the coordinator. He was the one bringing these disparate elements together. He wasn't just a rapper; he was an auteur. He was overseeing the mixes, picking the beats, and ensuring the "vibe" remained consistent.
Final Thoughts on a Masterpiece
Scarface The Untouchable album remains a high-water mark for the culture. It’s an album that doesn't age because the themes—paranoia, greed, survival, and faith—are universal. It’s the definitive Houston rap document.
It didn't need a million features. It didn't need a TikTok dance. It just needed a man with a microphone and a lot of demons to exorcise.
Actionable Insights for the Hip-Hop Head
- Audit the Production: If you're a producer, study Mike Dean’s work on "Smile" and "Mary Jane." Notice how he uses analog synths to create atmosphere rather than just melody.
- Study the Storytelling: For aspiring writers, analyze the track "Money and the Power." Look at how Scarface uses specific imagery—the "corner store," the "grey Cadillac"—to build a world without over-explaining it.
- Contextualize the History: Listen to this album immediately followed by The Notorious B.I.G.'s Life After Death (released two weeks later). You’ll hear two different regions grappling with the same pressures of fame and the streets in vastly different sonic ways.
- Support the Catalog: Don’t just stream the hits. Check out the deep cuts like "Look Me in My Eyes." It’s where the real "expert level" lyricism hides.