The Game’s third and final album, L.A.X., is an iconic dosage of gangsta rap that marks a throwback to some of the genre’s classic records.

After nearly abandoning everyone that helped him make his way to his debut record, The Documentary, The Game has run the risk of turning in one hell of a short career. His sophomore album, The Doctor’s Advocate, sold several million copies fewer than his debut and his foray into film (Waist Deep) was ludicrous.

Yet something about The Game remains believable and on L.A.X. he lets us know that our faith is well-placed, even if he has appeared to be batshit crazy more than a few times.

L.A.X. is what happens when batshit crazy meets high-end talent.

The Game’s story of the streets rips through tracks with his proficient flow and throng of guests, leaving no stone unturned. With a career that had him feuding before he was recording, it’s interesting to see The Game surrounded by so many big-ticket talents.

After an odd intro “prayer” featuring the always peculiar DMX, the record flies into one of its best tracks with “L.A.X. Files.” Sparked with a satisfying late-'90s feel and The Game’s attempt at double-time spitting, the track is a rough-sounding honour to the hood. He name-drops all over the place (“me and Snoop Dogg just make this look easy”), but his verses are still efficient.

More '90s hip-hop tempers things with “State Of Emergency,” a track that shines with hard verses and an absolutely lethal appearance by the one and only Ice Cube. The winding synth surroundings and the minimalistic production make the track sturdy enough for a contemporary N.W.A. album.

It is the guts of The Game that really makes L.A.X. glow. Not only does he try to do a Westside Connection-style blueprint with Cube, but he also tests his grit against some of the strongest rappers in the trade. The Game hangs convincingly with Raekwon (“Bulletproof Diaries”), Nas (“Letter to the King”), and Common (“Angel”) and takes concrete production from Kanye, Scott Storch, Cool & Dre, and J.R. Rotem and works it agreeably.

Fans will certainly get their money’s worth with L.A.X. With countless rap albums top-loaded with stuffing, The Game’s album features only an intro, outro, and an interlude at the album’s middle point. The rest of the record is packed rock-solid with swarming hip-hop.

That’s not to say that L.A.X. isn’t without its outlandish and uncomfortable moments. “My Life” features a Lil Wayne guest spot that is, to be kind, less than charming. And The Game’s verses on the song are somewhat weird: “We are not the same, I am a Martian.” He does cash in later by saying “Fuck Jesse Jackson cuz it ain’t about race now.”

And “Gentleman’s Affair” seems like an addendum with its featureless Ne-Yo vocals and lukewarm verses.

Still, there’s far more good than bad on L.A.X. The Game aims high on this record and by and large hits the mark. His verses are rough and varied, representing a rejection of the customary poetic path. The Game’s yearning to experiment lyrically can lead to some misses, but his fortitude is unquestionable.

L.A.X. is certainly a hell of a way to go out.