When she broke through in 2017 with her studio debut, *Wash & Set*, the New York rapper obscured her face behind a ski mask in videos and onstage, as she’d continue to do over the rest of her *Beauty Series* album trilogy (2018’s *Acrylic* and 2022’s *Shape Up*). But when she announced her fourth album with the video for lead single “450” in fall 2024, the once-mysterious Leikeli47 appeared unmasked for the first time, though rapping just as hard as ever: “Stay mad, I ain’t never letting up!” *Lei Keli ft. 47 / For Promotional Use Only*, her first independent release, marks a new chapter for the cult-favorite MC, who leaps from pulsing ballroom house (“soft serve”) to sleazy ’80s glam (“starlight”) to fantastical reggae (“sandhills”). It’s equal parts soul and swagger: On “queen,” Leikeli shouts out resilient women (“This one’s for the girls in the shelters/AKs and them Deltas/Cashiers at the Food Lion/All that matters is you tryin’/So keep it up, queen”), then peacocks over the stone-cold funk of “hnic,” ending her three-year hiatus with a warning: “The bitch is back!”
Leon Thomas wears seemingly every hat there is: He sings, he writes songs, he acts, and he produces. Despite being spread thin in a million different directions, he manages to excel in all these fields. After years of dedicating his talent to acting and writing songs for other artists, he emerged in 2023 with his solo debut, *Electric Dusk*, via Ty Dolla $ign’s EZMNY imprint. A year later, he released its follow-up, *MUTT*, a convincing sign that Thomas is all in on this latest endeavor. *MUTT* finds Thomas showcasing his vocal prowess and lyrical talent alike, telling stories of love lost and betrayal, staggering his way through empty relationships as he looks for his soulmate. On “SAFE PLACE,” he sings over screeching guitars and the persistent beat of a ride cymbal bell, admitting, “I see the glass half empty.” On “FAR FETCHED,” which features his label boss, Thomas takes issue with a love interest who is more interested in handouts than a deep relationship. “Paid for my mistakes in Benzes and diamonds,” he fumes, before adding, “250 fronted like you was my artist.” Leon Thomas has conquered everything he’s set his mind to, and yet, on *MUTT*, love eludes him.
In the roughly two years since his Def Jam return *Fortune Favors the Bold*, Dave East opted to build as an independent with some choice collaborators. A good deal of this came as proper projects co-headlined by AraabMUZIK, Cruch Calhoun, and Scram Jones, among others. Arriving mere months after *The Final Call*, his joint album with Ransom, he links here in similar fashion with Roc-A-Fella Records alumnus Young Chris. Those who remember Philly duo Young Gunz and the adjacent State Property collective know how well Chris works with others, and *Fine Dining* demonstrates that he’s only gotten better at it with time. Most of the beats come from East’s go-to Triple A, who lays down rugged and soulful instrumentals like “Pablo & Gunner” and “Ain’t Adding Up” for the formidable pair to get their seasoned streetwise bars off. Their insular guest list reflects the respect they deservedly garner, with ElCamino coming through along with the aforementioned Calhoun and Ransom.
Fully back on his independent grind, Detroit mainstay Icewear Vezzo continues to flourish and succeed on his own merits. In a crowded scene of Michigan rap contenders, his name stays in the upper echelon off the strength of his work. The EP-length *UNDEFEATED* exemplifies his ethos, with a foundation in unapologetic street talk and backed with trunk-rattling productions. Nodding back to his Green Guyz days as well as to a certain Lil Yachty single, “MINNESOTA” hits like a brick with its purp-skewed trap-house chronicles. Buoyed by a beat sampling a romantic ’80s electro-funk gem, “GOOD TO ME” flips the narrative to break down what he’s looking for in a baddie, citing loyalty above nearly all else. Naturally, he gives the project’s handful of guest spots to homegrown stars, with both Big Sean and Skilla Baby flawlessly flexing over “WORTH SOMETHING” and GT bringing his A-game to “RICHER THEN I EVER BEEN.”
Buffalo producer ILL Tone Beats was never much for a producer tag. And it’s not because his sample-heavy beats are so immediately identifiable like those of, say, a Timbaland or Swizz Beatz. But the company Tone most frequently keeps—the MCs of Griselda Records and the Black Soprano Family collective—happen to have a way of announcing themselves in the space one might normally reserve for a producer tag (Cue Westside Gunn’s “Boom-Boom Boom-Boom!”). Making a name for himself is hardly ILL Tone’s concern, though. He’s already an integral part of one of rap’s most inventive and exciting movements. He reaffirm this position across *The Outcome*, a project that features the very best of MCs like Benny the Butcher, Conway the Machine, Elcamino, Rome Streetz, and Flee Lord. Those are, of course, hometown heroes, but he’s also got an AZ verse and an interlude with Ghostface Killah talking crazy. So the people who actually need to know who ILL Tone is already do: They’re the ones he’s been making neoclassical hip-hop with for years now.
“First Day Out” may have thrust Tee Grizzley into breakout rap stardom, but his subsequent eight years of work and dedication have kept him in the conversation. A key and respected part of the contemporary Detroit hip-hop vanguard with some commercial hits under his belt, he brings both confidence and gravity to *Forever My Moment*. As the opening title track shifts from him spitting raw and a cappella to going in on a bone-chilling Helluva beat, he begins reflecting on how fresh money changed his situation and relationships. This lay-of-the-land purview pervades much of the project’s runtime, with Grizzley shaking his head at both the state of the game and its players on “Jalen Hurtski” and “Rick Jameski.” On the provocatively titled (though in no way political) “They Shot at Trump,” he cautions bros and opps alike that anybody can get touched in these streets. Should anyone unaware question Grizzley’s credibility, real moments like “Stash-house in Dearborn” and “Robbery 9” will quell any and all dissent.
In the three-and-a-half decades since roaring like a self-described “dungeon dragon” on A Tribe Called Quest’s “Scenario,” Busta Rhymes has often slipped into the serpentine. Following in the tradition of his zodiac-inspired *Year of the Dragon* and the collaborative Q-Tip mixtape *The Abstract and The Dragon*, this EP offers a preview of his promised return to fire-breathing form. Beginning with the ferociously boastful intro “Letter to My Children,” he proceeds to ensure that everything remains raw. No matter what kind of beat enters his lair, he wields seemingly supernatural rap powers over the music, from the positively funky single “Do the Busabus Pt.2” to the stop-start clamor of “Keep Executing.” The oft explicit nature of his lyrics only serves to strengthen his arguments, adding heft to the gospel-tinged boom-bap take “National Treasure.” The sole vocal guest here, emerging singer YG Marley, honors his own legacy with Jah praise over the reggae-pop grooves of “Treasure & Gold.”
Who knows if hip-hop would’ve ever made it this far without Slick Rick? A style icon, rhyme maestro, and gifted storyteller, the London-born rapper/producer set the tone in the mid-’80s as Ricky D alongside Doug E. Fresh in The Get Fresh Crew. By the end of that decade, he’d transcended those auspicious beginnings with the full-length solo debut under his now best-known moniker, *The Great Adventures of Slick Rick*. In the more than three and a half decades since that album, a lot changed in the genre as well as in his personal and professional lives. Yet over all those years, even as his output slowed or stalled, respect for The Ruler never waned. For *VICTORY*, his first album since 1999’s *The Art of Storytelling*, a 60-year-old Rick doesn’t even try to play in the contentious spaces currently occupied by viral drill and trap stars. Instead, he’s back for the love of the rap game, choosing playful production to match his seasoned flow. Lest anyone need an introduction, “I Did That” runs through his résumé with ease before dipping into clubland for “Come On Let’s Go.” The unmistakeable spark of his narrative rap greatness flicks on once again for “Landlord,” a witty if scathing barrage of rent-due anecdotes timed for the first of the month, and “So You’re Having My Baby,” a jazzy chronicle that packs plenty in scarce little time. Even his guest selection, while highly limited, speaks to his own exquisite tastes rather than the marketplace, with Giggs popping in for “Stress” and Nas putting his stamp on “Documents.”
Two decades into his career, Jim Jones finds himself exactly where he expected to be. Back up to 2004, when Jones was riding high as a member of Cam’ron’s Dipset crew, the Bronx MC unleashed his solo debut, *On My Way to Church*. On his eighth solo album, 2025’s *At the Church Steps*, he’s finally arrived. Sure, enough time has passed between the two records to raise a human from birth to legal drinking age, but Jones sounds in vintage form. The line from his debut to its spiritual sequel is nearly straight: On opener “Jomo” he travels on back to mid-2000s Harlem, where The Diplomats made their name, cueing up a soul-heavy vocal chop courtesy of Statik Selektah. It’s a beat that would have sounded nice on *Diplomatic Immunity* from 2003. On the cut and throughout the album, he’s contemplative, celebratory, and mournful in equal doses. On that opener, he raps, “I done put so much work in, I could have died on the job.” Despite it all, the blessings remain bountiful for one of New York’s perennial rap figures.
New York may currently be dominated by any number of sexy drillers, but a real and abiding love for rap’s prior native iterations runs citywide. Listening to Lord Sko, a young MC eagerly updating a classic sound, one can’t help but hear how his *PIFF* could reverberate well beyond the five boroughs. With material support and on-record co-signs by the likes of Statik Selektah, he tackles topics and themes as integral to his home’s hip-hop traditions as any, from sporting Polo and smoking blunts to chatting up shorties and betting on the Knicks. Lest anyone think this is some purely nostalgic play, Sko’s lexicon goes considerably beyond what the boom-bap glory days contained. Over beats by the highly contemporary likes of Tony Seltzer, Mike Shabb, and Wino Willy, he sounds like the underground that nurtures him, shouting out local spots like The Astor Club on the woozy “Problem Child” and casually flexing over the dreamlike vibes of “Robinhood.” This explains how he can move in the same rooms as Conway the Machine and Grand Puba on “Camel Eyes” and “Girbaud Talk,” respectively.
After 2018’s *Glory Sound Prep*, songwriter, producer, and multi-instrumentalist Jon Bellion stepped back from releasing music of his own. He still wrote and produced for other artists like Justin Bieber, Maroon 5, and Jonas Brothers, and headed up his label Beautiful Mind Records, which has released albums by the likes of Tori Kelly. He also became a dad—an experience, he tells Apple Music’s Zane Lowe, that sparked a realization. “You start to realize, ‘The father is wildly important in the home,’” he says. “You hear that, you believe that—and then you have children, and you’re like, ‘Oh, my God.’” Across *FATHER FIGURE*—Bellion’s first full-length in seven years—the Long Island-born pop alchemist comes to grips with fatherhood’s enormity while also appreciating the way that living life apart from the day-to-day artist grind has opened up his creativity. Now fully independent (*FATHER FIGURE* is his first album on his own label), Bellion is striking out in directions that, he feels, he wouldn’t have even found if he hadn’t gone on hiatus from performing. “My music has grown and matured in a way that would have never happened if I didn’t walk away from the artistry for a little bit,” he says. The massive task of nurturing young humans in a chaotic world hangs over the album, giving urgency to Bellion’s innovatively constructed, genre-fluid compositions. On the jittery “MODERN TIMES,” a reggae-tinged collaboration with jazz savant Jon Batiste, Bellion laments those who “got some money and lost \[their\] sense of mind.” The stripped-down “WHY,” a collaboration with Luke Combs, questions love’s existential purpose—“If the higher I fly is the further I fall/Then why love anything at all?” they wail on the chorus. The sinewy “RICH AND BROKE” brings the listener inside Bellion’s mind during an earthquake’s immediate aftermath. It combines breakbeats, sirens, and fractured choirs, creating a maelstrom that underscores what feels like the album’s statement of purpose: “Had a big chain ’round my neck/That I worked for my whole life/But the first thought was my kids.” While most of the album operates with what Bellion calls a “very gorilla energy of the masculine,” its last track, the luminous lullaby “MY BOY,” punctures that concept. “Fit inside these arms forever, ’cause the world’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” he croons to the child he’s holding, and the racing thoughts he confesses to God expand on that: “I hate the weakness of showin’ my son what makes me sad,” he raps. But with that vulnerability, he notes, a stronger bond is formed: “He said a present father is worth way more than a perfect dad.” *FATHER FIGURE* wrestles with masculinity, fatherhood, and culture bravely and with gusto, with Bellion’s ever-evolving artistry and hunger for the truth fueling his desire to get even more real.
Death is at the forefront of AJ Tracey’s mind on his third studio album; the title, *Don’t Die Before You’re Dead*, makes that more than clear. And although success has granted the West London rapper a certain level of immortality, no one, not even Tracey—who has seen his career go from strength to strength since he put his home borough on the map with the 2019 hit single “Ladbroke Grove”—lives forever. “I’ve been through a lot of things since I dropped the second album,” he tells Apple Music’s Dotty. “Life is beautiful, but it’s also quite tough sometimes…We all go through it, but I come out the other side stronger and with a different perspective on life.” The reason for his preoccupation is laid out in “3rd Time Lucky,” which finds him sorting through his emotions as his mother recovers from cancer, over solemn chords reminiscent of Sting’s “Shape of My Heart.” The track is a rare moment of vulnerability on an album that often pulses with the desire for women, pleasure, and leisure, and an even rarer window into Tracey’s interior world—but the album title’s morbidly inverse framing of the message that life should be lived to its fullest is revealing. “Heavens beneath mum’s feet, for her whole life, she had the world on her shoulder,” he raps in the opening seconds of “3rd Time Lucky.” It’s an airtight bar, vacuum sealing an intense tangle of emotions inside another, grittier layer of meaning behind his sentiment: Hang on, even when you think it’s over. Don’t die before you’re dead. Despite the heaviness at the heart of the record, *Don’t Die Before You’re Dead* is an otherwise energetic offering that showcases the level of charisma on the mic that has made Tracey a festival favorite, his sharp enunciation and rhythmic flow often adding an extra percussive element to the production. “Crush” flips a sample from a classic Brandy ballad into a flirty back and forth with Jorja Smith, “Chat Rooms” thumps with the beat of jersey club drums. There’s a healthy dose of braggadocio in the recipe for tracks like “Second Nature” and “Paid in Full,” perfectly counterbalanced by tracks like “West Life,” with its winking references to ’90s girl groups or “Red Wine,” an indie-pop collaboration with Ivor Novello winner Master Peace which emerges as an unexpected highlight as it closes out the record. It makes for a well-rounded body of work, proving there’s no avenue Tracey isn’t prepared to explore, both artistically and emotionally, in his quest to make the most of his time on Earth. “I thought I need to give people what they need and not what they want, but sometimes they’re going to express to you like, ‘If you do this, maybe you’re going to tap into something,’” says Tracey. “Sometimes you’ve got to just go into that unknown, man.”
