Snoop Dogg has been Reincarnated as Snoop Lion with his latest release, a product of his explorations of peace, reggae and Rastafarianism. The project combines the efforts of many major producers, including Diplo and Major Lazer — particular efforts to cover up Snoop’s ignorance with popular production techniques.

Violence in the hip-hop world led Snoop to Jamaica to reinvent himself, where he found that with reggae and Rastafarianism, he can promote peace, instead of strife, through his music. In other words, he can have all the money and weed without the gun charges. Exposing himself to the influence of original reggae artists like Jimmy Cliff, Gregory Isaacs and the Wailers — and opening his “third eye” — have allowed him to put forth Reincarnated.

Snoop parades his new ideals on “No Guns Allowed.” The song sends a powerful message by denouncing gun violence around the world and features Snoop’s daughter, Cori B. It’s not clear whether the song apologizes for Snoop’s previous gun incidents or attempts to sweep them under the rug, but it carries a commendable message in today’s social climate. On the other hand, in “Here Comes the King”, the chorus sings “We at war with the army of haters / And when we kill them we just smoke them like papers,” which is a brief but glaring deviation from Snoop’s peaceful vibe.

In fact, other themes in the album reveal Snoop’s lack of commitment to Rastafarianism. A familiar reggae message gets twisted in “Here Comes the King.” The song promotes unity under the King (the ruler of the world appointed by Jah), but in this context, the King is Snoop Lion, and he lets everyone know that they’re beneath him (“You might be a lord / but here comes the king”) and makes some unintentionally tyrannical statements (“Power to the people, let ’em kiss the ring / Bow, here comes the king”).

It seems that Snoop thinks he’s an incarnation of Haile Selassie, which isn’t too surprising of a claim, since he also thinks he’s Bob Marley. Maybe these inconsistencies explain why the leaders of the Rastafari movement, including reggae legend Bunny Wailer, are pissed off and expect a public apology. In fact, the Rastafari Millenium Council has sent a formal written demand threatening to sue Snoop if he doesn’t make reparations for his misrepresentation of Rastafarian culture. Bunny Wailer calls his use of the culture fraudulent, and the council calls him out for filtering their ideals down to weed and reggae.

Despite the fact that Snoop thinks that replacing “I” with “me” in his lyrics and wearing a colored hat were his last steps in becoming a purveyor of Jamaican tradition, not everything on the album is ignorant. Who steps in to save the day? It’s not Drake, who clearly wrote down the wrong tempo during the studio meeting and can’t seem to keep up with the beat. The burden comes down on Diplo, Major Lazer and the other producers who create the meat of the album. Well-executed one drops, an effective use of horns and groovy bass lines showcase at least an elementary understanding of reggae foundations.

The producers don’t attempt to recreate reggae, but rather use its assets to make pop/hip hop. They take ska horn lines and put them deep in the bass register where they function as a hip-hop groove. Unfortunately, some of their experimentations go awry — in “Torn Apart,” a sound effect that attempts to emulate some form of hand percussion sounds more like a wet fart and totally distracts from the purpose of the song — but they make Miley Cyrus shine in “Ashtrays and Heartbreaks” and create a solid foundation for the record.

Researching or thinking too hard about Reincarnated will only disappoint, so reserve this album for your “Summer Jams” playlist and give it no further attention.