Everystoner Devin the Dude watches most of his life from a permanent ass-dent in the couch. He fumbles with the remote, calls for a dusky sax loop and some guitar clucks, mumbling a sloppy – if ever lovable – flow of dirty talk from the left corner of his mouth, so as not to drop the bobbing joint clamped down on the right.

After three solo albums and an overstuffed scrapbook of guest spots, most famously on Dr. Dre’s “”Fuck You,”” the Texas-born rapper is finally starting to be recognized as a major player for the Southern team in America’s location-based hip-hop tournament. He makes as fly a case for the bottom states as any of his teammates, rubbing the sweat of each – Scarface’s cool sting, T.I.’s slow heat, UGK’s rich, salty melody – into most every track of Waitin’ to Inhale. But he’s still nowhere near their status, and that’s where a distinct self-awareness comes in to cap off the bowl: a sheepish scrawl that begs for free sex, complains about inflation and admits to getting boners when rapping about pussy (and he does – a lot).

Dev pulls killer cameos from Snoop, Lil’ Wayne, Bun-B and former partners the Odd Squad ­- even convincing Andre 3000 to chill back for a sec – but this glory is his own. Some week-old purp beats roast in the center console, letting off a warm, wet skunk. Devin even dots his “”i”” with a marijuana leaf. Not like the herb is new to his genre, but this Dude’s kicked-back, charred raps and smoldering tracks positively reek of it.

4 Stars