Yes--we all hate Puffy. But let’s face it. We all LOVE Puffy.

For all the usual criticisms leveled at Puff Daddy—he’s a sell-out, his rhymes are weak, his beats are recycled—you can’t deny that Sean "Puffy" Combs is a fascinating individual. Since the release of 1997’s No Way Out, Puff Daddy has firmly established himself as the biggest hip-hop icon EVER. In the hip-hop world, his celebrity is simply unmatched—in fact, even people who aren’t familiar with his music know Puffy. His blank sunglasses-covered stare and slightly crooked front teeth have developed such ubiquity in mainstream culture that it’s not surprising to hear an opinion on Puff’s latest goings-on from even the most unlikely of sources (ask your parents what they think of him). Regardless of the ongoing criticism of Mr. Combs, as a culture we are fascinated by this man and his contradictions.

Savvy as he is, nobody recognizes this truth better than Puff himself. Witness the first single from Forever, "P.E. 2000", in which Puffy positions himself as "public enemy number one". The song turns Puffy against the very public that elevated him to superstardom and questions our fickle criticisms. "Now let me ask you, what you got against me? Is it my girl or is it the Bentley? Is it my house or maybe its all three? I just came up and you’re all against me. But ask yourself: Why is he number one?" Why is he number one, Puff asks slyly. Because we all put him there. As a public, his success is our own doing and therefore our resentment is unjustified. As he says elsewhere on the album, "Don't hate me. Hate yourselves."

As is appropriate for the king of contradictions, Forever is both remarkably similar and remarkably different from the platinum No Way Out. While the previous album gave the feeling of a Mafia family—with big-boss Puff presiding over a showcase of Bad Boy talent (Mase, Lil’ Kim, The Lox, 112), this album is definitely more of a Puff Daddy album than a Bad Boy album. That’s not to say that Forever is without a slew of guest appearances (pretty much every song features someone—from R. Kelly to Jay-Z), but the guests on this album are exactly that. Guests, rather than Puffy’s minions. The sense of P-Diddy as the jubilant conductor orchestrating it all is missing.

At the same time, it’s easy to find lyrical and musical themes that make Forever a logical follow-up to No Way Out. Musically, Puff stays true to his reputation, using samples liberally—preferring those that use dramatic piano and string arrangements, while occasionally throwing in disembodied voices and even bagpipes. Likewise, we find similar lyrical themes from his previous work—a fascination with death coupled with a passion for life, overblown confidence partnered with severe insecurity, faith in God along with a bad-ass gangster mentality. However, because of the album’s greater emphasis on Puffy himself, we get a much deeper look into all of these—and his fascinating contradictions become much more apparent.

That’s the bottom line on Puff Daddy. No matter how much hype is built around Mr. Combs, the fact remains that he is a real human being with all that goes with it. His inherent inconsistencies bring him down to earth—they shine through the bragging about Bentleys and Benjamins. Yes—we hate Puffy because he doesn’t keep it real. But we LOVE Puffy because he is real. That’s the biggest contradiction of all.