Milo’s raps are that of internal monologues, paradoxical truths and caustic wit. His flow ricochets around the rap cosmos — choppy to smooth, elliptical to gratifyingly loquacious — before fate slots it away in pockets of dream-like production that is heavily indebted to jazz’s freest, most nakedly emotive, compulsions. Scallops Hotel, his side project and producer alias, is low stakes in the best possible understanding of the phrase. A sublime January release earlier this year, sovereign nose of (y​)​our arrogant face, marked newfound terrain for Ferreira through sheer uniformity in pace and a flow that is becoming increasingly screwed into…