LiAngelo Ball never quite made it to the NBA like his brothers LaMelo and Lonzo. But, like any good entrepreneur, he built his own alternative in the form of his 2025 debut album, *League of My Own*. GELO doesn’t need a hoop to ball out, as he made abundantly clear on his world-beating debut single, “Tweaker.” The song was a hit among NBA players and rap devotees alike, even earning him a deal with Def Jam. On *League of My Own*, the top prospect cashes in on all the hype, proving that professional basketball was just a detour to his real calling: rap superstar. The only featured spot on the entire 13-song project comes from GloRilla on “Can You Please,” which finds GELO interpolating the gritty rap culture from Glo’s hometown of Memphis and turning it into his own intoxicating club anthem. Elsewhere, it’s GELO’s stage, and he leans into his superhero origin story. Take “Shook Da Game,” where he outlines how he damn near took over the entire basketball world without having to step on the court.
The phrase “your favorite rapper’s favorite rapper” is used all the time, but what’s the equivalent for the moral direction of the genre? Shortly after taking a stance for hip-hop’s principles in his battle with Drake, Kendrick Lamar shouted out Lecrae as his own example of who he looks to for guidance. “Sometimes I wonder what Lecrae would do,” he rapped aloud on an untitled track. “Fuck these n\*\*\*\*s up, or show ’em just what prayer would do?” The Texas native has topped the Billboard 200, won four Grammy Awards, and collaborated with other rap greats over his 20-plus-year career, all while creating music that’s firmly rooted in his Christian faith. It’s easy to see why Kendrick would look up to him: He’s stuck by his principles and reshaped the face of Christianity in hip-hop in the process. But a listen to *Reconstruction* shows that Lecrae isn’t the pillar of spiritual steadiness that many think. He’s had rifts with sects of the religious community that made him consider abandoning his faith, he’s still reeling from the deaths of loved ones, and memories from his past in the streets are still fresh in his mind. It’s all led him to a new perspective on his faith, as he explains in the title track, angrily chastising institutional Christianity for getting in bed with crooked politicians and evil forces. “They said we were walking away from faith?/We wasn’t walking away from faith, we was walking away from fraud,” he proclaims. “This ain’t a crisis of belief/It’s a reconstruction for clarity.” But Lecrae hasn’t gotten this far by being preachy. He has just as much skill on the mic as he does conviction in his beliefs. “Brick for Brick” cleverly uses drug and housing metaphors to illustrate spiritual stability, and “H2O” flips water-and-ice wordplay to emphasize the prioritization of spiritual connection over material wealth. “Headphones” finds him bonding with Killer Mike and T.I. over grief and survivor’s guilt, and on “Politickin,” he surprisingly sounds right at home over a thumping West Coast homage. But on “Die for the Party,” he directly responds to Kendrick’s shout-out, mirroring his peer’s disgust with a lack of morality in rap and the world writ large. But he also laments his own imperfections in the same context. “Truthfully, I’m nobody to judge,” he admits.
Following Mereba’s 2019 solo debut, *The Jungle Is the Only Way Out*, and 2020’s *Spilligion* as part of the Spillage Village supergroup, her perspective was shifted by the birth of her son. *The Breeze Grew a Fire* honors her role as maternal figure while leaving room for her to examine her own place in the world. On the album, Mereba, who cut her teeth in Atlanta’s underground scene, creates uplifting anthems of triumph and perseverance. Opener “Counterfeit” has her rapping over a sugary synth melody and shuffling drums. The chorus explodes as she sings, “You’re the original/Don’t let ’em counterfeit you.” She takes this advice to heart, embracing a number of genres and unexpected detours on *The Breeze Grew a Fire*. “White Doves” hearkens back to the neo-R&B of D’Angelo and The Soulquarians, while “Meteorite” skips and shuffles alongside a lo-fi rap beat.
In a fun bit of irony, Joyner Lucas spent the lead-up to the release of his 2025 LP, *ADHD 2*, with his attention elsewhere. After Skepta called out Lucas on his July single “Friendly Fire,” the Massachusetts-born spitter took a pause and addressed Skepta’s diss in a scathing retort entitled “NOBODY CARES.” While it’s unrelated in spirit and theme to the rapper’s third LP, Joyner knows the rules of rap: If you get dissed, you diss back. On “NOBODY CARES,” his lyricism, flows, and rhyme schemes are superlative, which he showcases throughout *ADHD 2* as well. Take “One of Them,” which features skittering synths and stomping drums. Lucas promises 2025 is the year he’s “gotta make shit bloody.” Elsewhere, he turns contemplative, like on the blackbear-assisted “Anxiety Wins” and the pre-release single “White Noise.”
Nearly all of YoungBoy Never Broke Again’s *More Leaks*, the prolific Baton Rouge MC’s first project of 2025, was available on the internet in some capacity before the album’s release. The music is as current as any we’re going to be able to get at this moment, with YB serving a two-year sentence. As YB fans, we’re extremely lucky that the music of *More Leaks played no part in the court proceedings, because there are some dastardly claims herein. Some are dark. “I’m in my backyard cutting billygoats by the throat,” he raps on “Cut Throat.” Some are seasonal. “Jingle bells, jingle bells/Who gon’ die today?” goes the repurposed melody of “Jingle Bells.” Some are potentially incriminating. “Kept the same stick that killed your man, and I put it at my grandpa house,” he raps on “Trap 101.” But all are YB, an artist who won’t be censored and one whose mystifying ways have brought him this far. “I’m a fuckin’ villain with them millions/But they know that though,” he raps on “Paparazzi.”***
Kevin Gates dropped *I’m Him* some five years after “I Don’t Get Tired,” the breakout hit that transformed him from mixtape upstart to mainstream rap rule-breaker. Beyond the controversies and improprieties that added a tabloid-ready gloss to his career, the Baton Rouge artist stood out on that second proper album for his inventive, oft-energetic takes on the trap era’s street-hustle mindset. Now, another half-decade later, freshly independent and pushing 40, he reveals both the rewards and the toll of that lifestyle on this concise sequel. In line with hip-hop’s ongoing mental health journey in rhyme, opener “Therapy Sessions” dives deep into a psyche so fraught with trauma that it would send most so-called pain rappers into hiding. “Same Way” finds him operating as a master of that particular subgenre, calculating loss amid the wins as a form of cautionary tale for the listener. Via the duality of “Big Bruddah (Don’t Be Mad),” he recounts betrayals and slights endured in the trenches while also flaunting his wealth and the intricate means through which he’s acquired it. Still, he can’t help but come off as triumphant on “Brasi the Eagle,” evoking his infamous mobster moniker to emphasize that his successes surpass his suffering. Gates’ characteristically unfiltered approach serves him well here. Whether truth-telling on the grimy motivational “Manifest” or casually pulling the baddest of baddies on the explicit “No Pressure,” that outlandish streak resurfaces enough times that it rewards his day-one listenership. Those long-term fans know that he’s remained true to form all these years, though anyone needing a reminder can reference “Block Away” and “Kiss the Ring” for clarity.
The first words heard on Eem Triplin’s debut album, 2025’s *Melody of a Memory*, come in the form of a message: “You are, you are a special gift/And you have taken the gift that God has given you.” Over the course of the album’s 13 tracks, the Pennsylvania-born rapper aims to spell out all the ways in which said gift has impacted his life. He’s both in awe of the blessings he’s received through rap and confident that he’s earned the life he’s built. Once most widely known as a producer for frequent collaborator $NOT, Triplin has taken his first crack at solo success on *Melody*, turning in a confident and infectious ode to the world and people who have shaped him. Despite the wins, Triplin is well aware throughout the project that there’s something left to be desired in his life. On “Feyoncé,” he sums it up when he raps, “I need a Beyoncé fiancé/To come and keep my mind straight, my vibe throwed off.”
Teyana Taylor’s fourth studio album commands an A-list cast of Hollywood talent (collectively owning an Oscar, seven Emmys, three Golden Globes, and a Tony) helping the multitalented singer-songwriter to bring the intimate, complicated world of *Escape Room* to life. A charged R&B drama unfolds between scene-setting interludes narrated by stars including Taraji P. Henson, Sarah Paulson, Kerry Washington, Regina King, and Issa Rae, as Taylor demolishes the fourth wall and opens the audience up to a front-row view of life in metamorphosis. The narrative that plays out across *Escape Room* runs parallel to events in Taylor’s own life, finding herself and falling in love again following her separation and subsequent divorce from former Brooklyn Nets player, Iman Shumpert. Opening track “Fire Girl” deploys a distorted vocal sample and lilting, Spanish guitar which lights a blazing trail of raw emotion that stretches the entire expanse of the album. “Long Time” simmers with regret, the KAYTRANADA assist “Open Invite” burns up with pure desire, while “In Your Skin” melts devotion. Although a turbulent ride at times, the gentle acoustic ballad “Always,” which strums the record out—ending on a message to their mother, read aloud by Taylor’s children—makes for a smooth landing, bringing the curtain down on a happy ending.
The Louisville slugger kicked off 2025 with January’s *I Ain’t Feeling You*, his star-studded second album with guest spots from Travis Scott, Lil Baby, and Veeze. Not six months later, Gee returns with a surprise third album, *My World*, whose unfussy song titles suggest a more spontaneous approach from the gravelly-voiced hustler who’s spent the six years since his 2019 debut mixtape *El Toro* ascending from the Kentucky hip-hop underground to the mainstream. He’s still balancing stone-cold street tales with a healthy dose of soul-searching. On “Take my time Geeski SH Feb 23,” Gee reflects on his trajectory as one of few rappers to make it out of his hometown. And an appearance from Yo Gotti on “PABLO FINAL GOTTI version” as the album’s only feature should implicitly quell the recent rumors of Gee’s supposed departure from the Memphis veteran’s CMG label.
Babyface Ray secured his standing in Detroit hip-hop over more than a decade’s worth of records, not the least of which being his 2022 pairing *FACE* and *MOB*. Firmly in his independent bag, he maintains the high quality of those standout projects on *Codeine Cowboy*, a narcotized trip that accentuates the themes found in his existing body of work while going deeper on other routes. Early on, fans will gravitate to streetwise cuts like “American Psycho” and “Kick the Cup Campaign.” Over time, however, a clear desire to explore R&B vibes crops up, particularly notable on “Nobody’s Perfect” and the JMSN collab “Don\'t Misuse Me.” Though his guests here represent an assortment of locales, those with close ties to Michigan (such as Lil Yachty on “Wavy Crete” and Veeze on “Half Sleep”) provide some of the most memorable features. Detroiters G.T. and Samuel Shabazz show up with their A-games for the faded “I Know” and the breezier “Sin Aire,” respectively, with the latter returning for thought-provoking closer “1 On 1 Talk With God.”
Will Smith has heard the chatter. So much of it, in fact, that the armchair punditry he apes on his *Based on a True Story* opener, “Int. Barbershop - Day,” sounds like it could be a field recording from any number of Black American gathering spaces. “Who the fuck Will Smith think he is?/And that boy damn crazy how he raising them kids,” goes a particularly cartoony quip. But that’s the beauty of Smith’s creative practice. Whether as star of television’s groundbreaking *The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air*, hunky lead of rom-coms like *Hitch*, and even action flicks like the *Bad Boys* franchise, Smith has never had a problem poking fun at himself. But keep playing…and he’ll get serious quick. Which is exactly what happens on *Based on a True Story*, Smith’s first body of work following 2022’s infamous Chris Rock/Oscars altercation and his first full-length album since 2005’s *Lost and Found*. Once he gets the jokes out of the way, Smith is out to remind us that he can still rap, and maybe more importantly, that he’s one of the greatest entertainers of all time. The album is Smith doing him to the fullest extent of his abilities, reveling in a storied legacy of acting and rapping (“You Lookin’ For Me?,” “Bulletproof,” “Tantrum”), while affirming his faith and the respect he has for his status as a role model (“Beautiful Scars,” “Make It Look Easy,” “You Can Make It”). It’s no light lift, but as he states on “Work of Art,” he’s built for it: “Ima king no denying this/Every limit, I’m defying it/Everybody wanna be a lion/Until it’s time to do lion shit,” he raps. Say what you want about Will Smith—you probably already have—but if you let him tell the story, there’s gonna be a little bit of boasting and a whole of gratitude. And that’s as close to the truth as we’re gonna get.**
A veteran MC and Los Angeles native, Murs has seen multiple sides of the music industry, with releases on respected indies and a brief dalliance with a major label. Yet as he prepares for a self-imposed rap retirement, he rightfully intends to end on a high note with *Love & Rockets 3:16 (The Emancipation)*. The third and final installment in a series that began in 2016, the roughly half-hour-long send-off both overtly and subtly calls back to an earlier time in his life and career in an apparent bid for closure. Opener “Silverlake Rec League” blends childhood reminiscing with clear-eyed metaphoric recognition of his underground king status. From there, he continues with the heartfelt “Enjoy,” the defiant “Chopper,” and the educational motivational “F.A.M.I.L.Y.,” all the while demonstrating how he’s endured in the game. After the autobiographical “Flowers For will.i.am” and the expansive “OCH,” he eventually reaches “Stylus Groove,” an exemplary finale for his discography.
The cover of Jessie Reyez’s third album features a questionnaire she answered as an eighth grader, and in a section titled favorite hobbies, she writes, “Rapping/singing/dancing.” In a sense, *PAID IN MEMORIES* makes good on those interests. She recruits hip-hop icons like Lil Wayne and Big Sean, alongside peers such as Lil Yachty, to help formulate some of these rap-leaning ideas. Despite the prevalence of these moments, though, she still offers up plenty of alt-pop songs for fans of her first two efforts: 2020’s *BEFORE LOVE CAME TO KILLS US* and 2022’s *YESSIE*. “PSILOCYBIN & DAISIES” flips the guitar riff from The Smashing Pumpkins’ “1979” and turns it into a hard-charging pop cut. Elsewhere, she displays her versatility with the downtempo neo-soul of “TORONTO SHORDIE” and the reggaetón-inspired groove of “PALO SANTO,” creating an album that pays tribute to all her passions.
Florida rapper Nardo Wick was still at the tail end of his teens when *Who Is Nardo Wick?* dropped in 2021. Its songs shared his stark vision of the streets in such a way that artists older than him could’ve learned a thing or two from his pen. A little over three years later, his sophomore full-length, *WICK*, goes deeper into the darkness, with booming beats that recall drill and trap at their most austere ends. The chilling monologue of “Gangsta” sets the mood early on, his bars veering between direct threats and tweaked references. In his signature snarl, even the Hamburger Helper punchline on “Ain’t No Lettin’ Up” feels intimidating. No small feat, he transforms menace into macabre turn-up tracks with “I Don’t Think” and “Get on My Nerves.” Though the production dwells largely on the dour side, he switches things up on occasion, revealing a sense of humor for “Beatbox” and flirting in the glow of ATL Jacob’s subtle throwback funk on “A Lil Different.” While the vast majority of *WICK*’s tracks solely center him, the handful with guests tend toward those who were there for his debut. A clear influence on his forbidding style, 21 Savage flexes amid sexual conquests on “HBK,” a lifestyle the younger artist has evidently grown accustomed to as well. Future and Southside raise the tempo and the stakes alike for the disorienting “Back to Back,” while Lil Baby helps Wick relive an era of Southern rap that neither was previously old enough to fully appreciate on “Hot Boy.”
Atlanta has long provided storytellers with experiences and settings that make for compelling songs and films. Seeing how much Georgia native 2 Chainz has brought to that city’s narrative with his music, it makes sense that he would eventually translate that to the big screen. Presented as a corresponding soundtrack to his short film *Red Clay*, this concise and collaborative set marks the second noteworthy project of the erstwhile Def Jam rapper’s new independent era. Opener “MUTUAL BONDS” mixes motivation with rumination, adding greater gravity to a track that seems to veer into intricate personal narratives. Of course, his *Most Expensivest* ethos naturally comes through on “I WANNA WIN” and “THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME,” yet the luxury stakes get downright stratospheric when Lil Yachty comes through with lavish, swaggering bars of his own on “SISTA WIVES.” In contrast, “DEAD BEAT MOMS” tries a more socially conscious tack that points both outward and inward, while the showstopper “THE ATL EXPERIENCE” features no less than The Isley Brothers to help deliver his message.
When you have a voice as pure as Cleo Sol’s, you can sing about nearly anything and have it sound otherworldly. Sol, however, doesn’t take lightly the responsibility of her instrument, treating each opportunity—both in and outside of her role as lead vocalist for Sault—as an opportunity to spread joy, foster hope, and offer up praise to the most high. Sault’s mission across *10*—actually their 12th full-length project—lies squarely inside those ramparts, with Sol working alongside the group’s production engine, Inflo, alongside a slew of other collaborators (dancehall singjay Chronixx, legendary bassist Pino Palladino, rising pianist NIJE) to offer a balm for increasingly trying times. The titles alone—“The Healing,” “Know That You Will Survive,” “We Are Living”—telegraph their psalmic intention. So does Sol’s voice, which sails over Ohio funk in “Power,” recalls the radiance of disco queen Donna Summer on “Real Love,” and anchors uptempo jazz on “The Sound of Healing,” breathing life into relentless optimism. Sault has been nothing if not celebrated over the course of their elusive career, but that adulation notwithstanding, *10* reminds us there’s still hope for us all.
