Sure, he can make words rhyme at times, but Jim Jones can’t really. . .how do you say. . .rap. The marble-mouthed MC is so devoid of a discernible flow that it often sounds as if he’s talking over beats that only exist in his own mind. Excluding veteran beatmaker Pete Rock’s shuffling track for ”Gees Up,” the album’s cheapskate production doesn’t hide such flaws. This is one Diary of a Summer that should stay under the pillow.