An identifiable voice can be the difference between a long, successful career and a short-lived 15 minutes of fame. Lil Wayne’s signature joker-esque laugh and the late DMX’s intense growls are both hallmarks that shifted the direction of hip-hop delivery in ways beyond measure.

In the modern rap landscape, where melodic rappers are a dime a dozen — shaky vocals often trying desperately to achieve herculean feats with auto-tuned assistance — Northeast Baltimore’s Shordie Shordie is a cut above the crowd. His nasal inflections and scratchily delivered hooks are building a case for his possessing some of the genre’s most iconic vocal cords.

His newest offering, “More Than Music Pt 2,” a sequel to his 2020 album of the same name, adds to Shordie’s ever growing catalog of playboy raps and street tales. The overwhelming success of his now double platinum hit, “Bitchuary,” led to a signing with Warner Music Group and more time spent in sunny Los Angeles. The change in scenery can be heard in the uptempo drums and warm guitar licks that span the project’s 17 tracks. While nothing groundbreaking takes place lyrically, and sonically things can sound too similar at times, the power of Shordie’s voice and talent for writing catchy hooks keeps the album moving smoothly and avoiding sluggishness.

“Can’t Party Here No More,” one of producer Yung Lan’s 10 contributions on the album, details Shordie’s early exodus from a get-together where a woman beckons him to stay. He’s too intoxicated to maintain a meaningful conversation. The skittering hi-hats and filtered steelpan instantly flood the mind with visions of clear skies, ocean water and coconut rum.

“Body Language” exists in the same lane, this time focusing on the swift plucks of a Spanish guitar while Shordie lets loose a series of oohs and aahs. One of his key strengths as an artist is that he doesn’t try to stretch his voice beyond its established capabilities. Where others would force a brittle vocal run in an attempt to convey pain or anguish, Shordie allows the natural whine of his voice to carry the emotional load.

Mozzy, a frequent collaborator, makes an early appearance on “Choosin,” but leaves as soon as he arrives, with his 20-second feature feeling as inconsequential as the song itself. Offset employs a slightly melodic flow on “Bossanova,” better matching Shordie’s own energy, and Rich Homie Quan hits a Baltimore name-drop and Marlo Stanfield reference on “The Wire.” Both features are serviceable, but they come and go without a second thought. These speak to a few chinks in the album’s armor; songs start with no buildup and are over before you know it. Pacing is nonexistent and verse construction often falls by the wayside.

However, one exceptionally bright spot on the album comes when things finally slow down and we find Shordie putting his mack to the side and taking (slight) responsibility for the hurt he’s caused. “Is It True?” grants us another glimpse at his ability to be a vivid storyteller and affecting songwriter. It’s also the only song on the album where Shordie shifts his focus away from creating earworm hooks and directs it towards penning two painfully short but impactful verses. As a result, the somber cry of an unknown male voice takes his place as he details an emotional car ride home with a woman questioning his love for her after an instance of infidelity. “You be like, ‘Life’s so cold,’ I be like, ‘You so bold’/You be like, ‘Tell me everything’/I’m thinkin’ it’s best you don’t know.”

The passing lights on a highway come into view — a woman’s sadness is reflected in a foggy side mirror. The only thing missing is the sound of windshield wipers filling the inevitable awkward silence for the rest of the ride home. “Is It True?” showcases Shordie Shordie’s growing ability to craft compelling narratives, despite, once again, the song ending before it can reach its true, tear-jerking potential. While his one-of-one vocal timbre currently elevates him above some of his peers, intentional development of his songwriting will further distinguish him from the pack.

For Shordie to stay on the up-and-up, experimentation is necessary and albums have to be more cohesive. The imbalance between Shordie’s hooks and verses grows more apparent on “More Than Music, Pt. 2″ and leaves the album less interesting than its potential. Complacency has been the undoing of many artists after they’ve begun to make their name. Creative exploration and a refined pen will ultimately be what keeps Shordie Shordie from growing stagnant and stifling his roots before they have a chance to finish taking hold.

Larry Little is a Baltimore-based music writer.