As the primary lyrical force behind N.W.A's Straight Outta Compton, Ice Cube helped establish gangsta rap as a social and political force. Then, with a series of explosive, misanthropic solo albums, he proved himself a vitriolic force to be reckoned with: an angry, stridently offensive bogeyman dedicated to scaring the shit out of white racist America. In the years following the release of 1994's Death Certificate, however, Cube has been a movie star first and a rapper second (maybe even third, when you consider his recent work as a director). Once unforgettable and undeniable, he now seems tame and familiar, with time and stardom doing to Cube what censors and critics never could: render him virtually obsolete. War & Peace Vol. 2 may be subtitled The Peace Disc, but its ideological commitment to peace goes no further than its focus on partying and women rather than the usual gun-toting violence. Cube's work as a ghostwriter is well-known, but, judging by the limited imagination and remedial lyricism here, he could use a ghostwriter himself. Like Q-Tip, Cube has largely abandoned his earlier lofty ambitions, but, unlike Q-Tip, he's still capable of decent pop music: "You Can Do It" and "Until We Rich" may be blatantly commercial, but at least they work on their own terms. The Peace Disc's first track, "Hell Low," reunites Cube with N.W.A mates Dr. Dre and MC Ren for the second time in the past few months, and, like their earlier track, it's passable but undistinguished, with Cube upstaged by both his former partners. The rest of the disc is familiar, lazy, and mostly uninspired. Cube may still possess hit-making ability, but his days as a vital hip-hop figure seem well behind him.