Rolling Stone's 20 Best Hip-Hop Albums of 2021

In the two years following the August 2018 announcement of Playboi Carti’s *Whole Lotta Red*, you could have gauged any given Carti fan’s investment in the project by which song leak they claimed to have liked the most. One the internet took to calling “Kid Cudi” had a unique sort of staying power. That song does not appear on *Whole Lotta Red*, but Kid Cudi himself does, on “M3tamorphosis.” Of the project’s 24 songs, Cudi is one of three featured guests, appearing alongside likewise stylistic innovators Kanye West and Future. And so goes the story of the project: *Whole Lotta Red* is likely pretty close to what fans were expecting, but better. The production—provided by names like Pi’erre Bourne, Art Dealer, F1lthy, Juberlee, Richie Souf, Maaly Raw, and Wheezy—is consistently forward-thinking, toeing the line between 808-heavy post-trap rumble and the perpetually weird and increasingly popular avant-pop sound known as PC Music. There is less “baby voice” here than fans of *Die Lit* may have wanted, but the rapping (and singing) is some of Carti’s most impassioned and sharpest. Fans hung up on those early leaks might do well to consider them accidental gifts, because when it was time to deliver the album, Carti made sure we got the best of him. He just needed us to be patient.

There’s a liquid, surreal feeling that runs through *Pray for Haiti*, a sense of touching solid ground only to leave it just as fast. Between the bars of Newark rapper Mach-Hommy\'s dusty, fragmented beats (many courtesy of the production regulars of Griselda Records), he glimpses thousand-dollar brunches (“Au Revoir”), bloodshed (“Folie Á Deux”), and the ghosts of his ancestors (“Kriminel”) with spectral detachment—not uncaring so much as stoic, the oracle at the outskirts who moves silently through a crowd. He likes it grimy (“Magnum Band,” “Makrel Jaxon”) and isn’t above materialism or punchlines (“Watch out, I ain’t pulling no punches/So real I make Meghan Markle hop out and get the Dutches”), but is, above all, a spiritualist, driven by history (like a lot of his albums, this one is peppered with Haitian Creole), feel, and a quiet ability to turn street rap into meditation. “It’s crazy what y’all can do with some old Polo and Ebonics,” he raps on “The 26th Letter”—a joke because he knows it’s not that simple, and a flex because, for him, it is.

There’s a handful of eyebrow-raising verses across Tyler, The Creator’s *CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST*—particularly those from 42 Dugg, Lil Uzi Vert, YoungBoy Never Broke Again, Pharrell, and Lil Wayne—but none of the aforementioned are as surprising as the ones Tyler delivers himself. The Los Angeles-hailing MC, and onetime nucleus of the culture-shifting Odd Future collective, made a name for himself as a preternaturally talented MC whose impeccable taste in streetwear and calls to “kill people, burn shit, fuck school” perfectly encapsulated the angst of his generation. But across *CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST*, the man once known as Wolf Haley is just a guy who likes to rock ice and collect stamps on his passport, who might whisper into your significant other’s ear while you’re in the restroom. In other words, a prototypical rapper. But in this case, an exceptionally great one. Tyler superfans will remember that the MC was notoriously peeved at his categoric inclusion—and eventual victory—in the 2020 Grammys’ Best Rap Album category for his pop-oriented *IGOR*. The focus here is very clearly hip-hop from the outset. Tyler made an aesthetic choice to frame *CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST* with interjections of shit-talking from DJ Drama, founder of one of 2000s rap’s most storied institutions, the Gangsta Grillz mixtape franchise. The vibes across the album are a disparate combination of sounds Tyler enjoys (and can make)—boom-bap revival (“CORSO,” “LUMBERJACK”), ’90s R&B (“WUSYANAME”), gentle soul samples as a backdrop for vivid lyricism in the Griselda mold (“SIR BAUDELAIRE,” “HOT WIND BLOWS”), and lovers rock (“I THOUGHT YOU WANTED TO DANCE”). And then there’s “RUNITUP,” which features a crunk-style background chant, and “LEMONHEAD,” which has the energy of *Trap or Die*-era Jeezy. “WILSHIRE” is potentially best described as an epic poem. Giving the Grammy the benefit of the doubt, maybe they wanted to reward all the great rapping he’d done until that point. *CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST*, though, is a chance to see if they can recognize rap greatness once it has kicked their door in.

It’s likely that only diehard Boldy James fans understand how perfect a complement he is to the Griselda Records roster. The Detroit MC’s focus has always been lyrically proficient street rap, but in 2020 alone, his ear for production would manifest collaborative tapes with beloved Mobb Deep collaborator The Alchemist (*The Price of Tea in China*), jazz musician Sterling Toles (*Manger on McNichols*), social media content creator Jay Versace (*The Versace Tape*), and fashion label/production collective Real Bad Man. The man likes to rap. And if there’s one thing Griselda doesn’t do, it’s hold back projects where their MCs go off. James’ first release of 2021, *Bo Jackson*, clearly fits the mold. Look no further than the album opener “Double Hockey Sticks” for Donald Goines-vivid streetlife scenarios unfurled in James’ signature deadpan: “My bitch scored and hit a game-changer/I made her transport the work in her Keyshia Ka\'oir waist trainer/Say she gon\' leave me and I can’t blame her/’Cause I was cutting up my side bitch raw with the same razor,” he raps. The Alchemist is, here, who he was for *The Price of Tea in China* and the James/Alc collaborative project that preceded that, 2019’s *Boldface*: a producer whose one-of-a-kind loops bring the best out of an MC who never really needed the help.

Pop music is, by design, kaleidoscopic, and Doja Cat\'s third album takes full advantage of its fluidity. *Planet Her* is ushered in on the euphoric Afropop of “Woman” and moves seamlessly into the reggaetón-kissed “Naked,” the hip-hop-meets-hyperpop of “Payday,” and the whimsical ad-lib trap of “Get Into It (Yuh)”—and that\'s just the first four songs. Later, R&B ballads and club-ready anthems also materialize from the ether, encompassing the spectrum of contemporary capital-P Pop and also the multihued sounds that are simply just popular, even if only in their corners of the internet for now. This is Doja\'s strength. She\'s long understood how mainstream sensibility interacts with counterculture (or what\'s left of it anyway, for better and worse), and she\'s nimbly able to translate both. *Planet Her* checks all the right boxes and accentuates her talent for shape-shifting—she sounds just as comfortable rapping next to Young Thug or JID as she does crooning alongside The Weeknd or Ariana Grande—but it\'s so pristine, so in tune with the music of the moment that it almost verges on parody. Is this Doja\'s own reflection or her reflecting her fans back to themselves? Her brilliance lies in the fact that the answer doesn\'t much matter. The best pop music is nothing if not a blurring of the lines between reality and fantasy, its brightest stars so uniquely themselves and yet whatever else they need to be, too.

Lil Nas X is nothing if not a testament to the power of being true to yourself. His breakthrough single, “Old Town Road,” forced the industry to revisit old conversations about the limitations of genre, race, and who is kept out (or locked in) by the definitions we use to talk about music. The Georgia-born singer-rapper responded in kind with a remix and remixes to that remix that rocketed him up the charts and simultaneously highlighted the fickleness of the entire endeavor—did Billy Ray Cyrus suddenly prove his country bona fides any more than the addition of Young Thug proved his trap ones or Diplo his electronic? But that\'s the magic of Lil Nas X and of his debut album *MONTERO*: He knows that pop music is whatever the artist creating it wants it to be, an exercise of vulnerable imagination packaged as unyielding, larger-than-life confidence. “I feel like with this album, I know what I wanted,” he tells Apple Music\'s Zane Lowe. “I know what I want. I know where I want to be in life. And I know that\'s going to take me being more open and bringing it out of myself no matter how much it hurts or feels uncomfortable to say things that I need to say.” But any such ambivalence doesn\'t explicitly manifest in the songs here, as Lil Nas X roams his interior spaces as openly as he does assorted styles—which span everything from emo and grunge to indie pop and pop punk. On “DEAD RIGHT NOW,” a thunderous track complete with choral flourishes, he recaps the journey to this moment, how it almost didn\'t happen, and the ways his personal relationships have changed since. “If I didn’t blow up, I would\'ve died tryna be here/If it didn’t go, suicide, wouldn’t be here,” he sings, adding, “Now they all come around like they been here/When you get this rich and famous everybody come up to you singing, \'Hallelujah, how’d you do it?\'” All throughout—on songs like “SUN GOES DOWN” or “DONT WANT IT”—the weight of his burdens exists in contrast to the levity of his sound, a particular kind of Black and queer disposition that insists on a joy that is far more profound than any pain. And make no mistake, there is plenty of joy here. On “SCOOP,” he finds an effervescent kindred spirit in Doja Cat, while “DOLLA SIGN SLIME,” which features Megan Thee Stallion, is a trapped-out victory lap. Elsewhere, the dark riffs on the outstanding “LIFE AFTER SALEM” bring him to new creative lands altogether. The album brims with surprises that continuously reveal him anew, offering a peek into the mind of an artist who is unafraid of himself or his impulses, even with the knowledge that he\'s still a work in progress. “Don\'t look at me as this perfect hero who\'s not going to make mistakes and should be the voice for everybody,” he says. “You\'re the voice for you.” And to that effect, *MONTERO* is a staggering triumph that suggests not just who Lil Nas X is but the infinite possibilities of who he may be in the future, whether that falls within the scope of our imaginations or not.

A combination of toxic masculinity and acceptance of truth which is inevitably heartbreaking. Executive produced by me, Noah “40” Shebib, Oliver El-Khatib, and Noel Cadastre. Dedicated to Nadia Ntuli and Mercedes Morr. RIP 💖 —Drake

When the more recognizable voices of Young Stoner Life’s *Slime Language 2* compilation ring out—Drake, Travis Scott, Lil Baby, Lil Uzi Vert, Kid Cudi, et al.—they bring about something of an energy shift. This isn’t to say that YSL MCs like Yak Gotti, Lil Duke, T-Shyne, Lil Keed, and Strick aren’t holding their own, because they absolutely are, but there are so many guests on *Slime Language 2* that the album plays less like a YSL roster showcase than an audio scrapbook of all of the talent Thug and Gunna keep company with. Here, that means verses from still-ascending YSL family members (Unfoonk, HiDoraah, and FN DaDealer, to name a few) but then also certified hip-hop superstars like Big Sean, Future, Skepta, Meek Mill, and NAV. This kind of after-party VIP-section gathering of personalities reflects positively on just about everyone involved: The lesser-known talents prove themselves capable of running with the big dogs, the established stars are able to stay in touch with the streets, and Thug and Gunna remind us how beloved they are as frontpersons for one of the most talented rap collectives to come out of Atlanta since the Grand Hustle.

The first step of listening to Young Thug is to discard any and all expectations. The next is to prepare. For what? One can never be entirely certain. At minimum, brace for a reintroduction to the polymathic Atlanta rapper—over 20 projects in, and he remains incalculable. There\'s a tiny bit of precedent for *Punk* in the country melodies of 2017\'s *BEAUTIFUL THUGGER GIRLS*, but even its title is a bait-and-switch. There\'s plenty of guitars, though they are acoustic rather than electric, and they tend to pulse more than thrash. From the outset, his aim is to disarm. An air of solemnity hangs over the album. Sometimes it makes sense, as on “Contagious,” a reflection on the highs and lows of fame, or “Stupid/Asking,” a two-part lovesick ballad that doubles as a display of Thug\'s singular vocal charisma. At other points, it seems almost opposed to the subject matter—the flex-filled “Insure My Wrist,” the gorgeously sappy standout “Love You More”—because Thug has always intrinsically understood the power of contrasting tones as a means of drawing out a range of emotions. Perhaps the biggest testament to his shape-shifting finesse, though, is the way the thunderous roar of songs like “Rich N\*\*\*a Shit” and “Bubbly” doesn\'t interrupt the concept but instead feels essential to it; the range is as much the point as the aesthetic. Still. In the end, any words that could describe *Punk*—pensive but playful, measured yet mercurial, bluesy folk music dressed up as trap rap—feel woefully inadequate to capture Thug\'s present essence, let alone his past, and certainly never his future. Perhaps that\'s the most punk thing of all.

“So when my brother died, probably like three days after, I hopped right back in the studio,” Maxo Kream tells Apple Music. “Not on no super rushing shit, but just tryna catch my vibe. Because he always told me, ‘Never stop this music shit.’ He always told me to keep going, so I was like, I gotta turn it up for bro.” This, in a nutshell, is the driving force behind Maxo Kream’s *WEIGHT OF THE WORLD* project. It comes to fans two years after 2019’s acclaimed *Brandon Banks* and after some serious soul-searching spurred by the murder of Maxo’s brother, an MC in his own right called Money Madu—and then the COVID-19 pandemic. Maxo will say that the pandemic did little to affect his day-to-day, but the time he had to reflect—coupled with the passing of one of the most important people in his life—wrenched from him his most honest and autobiographical work to date. The MC unfurls details about the life experiences that built him on songs like “11:59,” “FRFR,” and a particularly heavy late-album stretch that features “GREENER KNOTS,” “MAMA’S PURSE,” and “TRIPS.” He can be so open on record that you might assume it difficult for him to give more insight into his thought process, but he’s taken time below to talk us through some of the standout tracks on *WEIGHT OF THE WORLD*. **“CRIPSTIAN”** “‘CRIPSTIAN’ was a song I already had, but it felt like it was a good intro song. Very serious, very mature, very on topic. I felt like I needed to start my project with that because even though I got a big persona and shit and I be having fun, I still gotta cater to my core fanbase.” **“11:59”** “I just be wanting people to know that shit that they think they doing, I really did that shit. But ain’t nothing wrong with growing your standards, getting your mind right, getting your frame right. It’s life lessons.” **“BIG PERSONA”** “Persona is what we push. That’s like the clique, that’s like the gang. RIP my brother—after he passed away, we really started to embrace the persona shit. The song is actually—I don\'t want to say the only, but one of the few positive songs I did in a long time at that time. No killing, no robbing, no drug dealing, no trauma, just balling and being positive.” **“DON’T PLAY WITH SHAWTY ASS”** “When I heard that beat, I was like, this shit stupid, super crazy. I liked it ’cause ain’t nothing else like that on the tape. I’ll try new types of beats: soulful beats, real guitars, real piano—not just like acoustic, trap beats. Really experiment. And like, my whole process I brought in Dom, Teej, Reginald Helms, Monte Booker, Guru, Bankroll Gotti, I was having a workshop. Like producers working, all that shit. I had like a real camp, like a real workshop for the tape.” **“LOCAL JOKER”** “I felt like COVID humbled a n\*\*\*a so many ways. I ain\'t talking about financing—it stopped shows, it ain’t really nothing financially—but like accessibility, being around people. It really made me get more down to earth. At the same time I might be contradicting myself ’cause I am local. Like you can come to Houston and catch me at a sneaker store, a restaurant. I really just be outside.” **“WORTHLESS”** “So the zone I was in for this was the same zone I was in for every song because I took Adderall on every fucking song. Like I think I made this shit during a comedown. \[The title is\] probably like a little exaggeration, because I\'m not strung out on Adderall. I don\'t even take Adderall if I\'m not rapping. Like, how many people do you know that take Adderall to pass college tests or to finish papers? I just be using it to make music. Same thing.” **“GREENER KNOTS”** “I\'m just being real, I don\'t know what to tell you. I\'m different. I ain\'t like anybody else. If it’s anything I’m rapping about, that shit comes from the heart. Especially with this tape. I put blood, sweat, and tears in this. I ain’t gon\' say tears, but shit, it was some tears, though.” **“TRIPS”** “I was going through it when my brother passed away. I felt like I needed to get something off my chest. I felt like I wasn’t gonna be able to rap about it again. I don’t even listen to the song, for real. The only song I don\'t go back and jam is \'TRIPS.\'”

“Sometimes I’ll be in my own space, my own company, and that’s when I\'m really content,” Little Simz tells Apple Music. “It\'s all love, though. There’s nothing against anyone else; that\'s just how I am. I like doing my own thing and making my art.” The lockdowns of 2020, then, proved fruitful for the North London MC, singer, and actor. She wrestled writer’s block, revived her cult *Drop* EP series (explore the razor-sharp and diaristic *Drop 6* immediately), and laid grand plans for her fourth studio album. Songwriter/producer Inflo, co-architect of Simz’s 2019 Mercury-nominated, Ivor Novello Award-winning *GREY Area*, was tapped and the hard work began. “It was straight boot camp,” she says of the *Sometimes I Might Be Introvert* sessions in London and Los Angeles. “We got things done pronto, especially with the pace that me and Flo move at. We’re quite impulsive: When we\'re ready to go, it’s time to go.” Months of final touches followed—and a collision between rap and TV royalty. An interest in *The Crown* led Simz to approach Emma Corrin (who gave an award-winning portrayal of Princess Diana in the drama). She uses her Diana accent to offer breathless, regal addresses that punctuate the 19-track album. “It was a reach,” Simz says of inviting Corrin’s participation. “I’m not sure what I expected, but I enjoyed watching her performance, and wrote most of her words whilst I was watching her.” Corrin’s speeches add to the record’s sense of grandeur. It pairs turbocharged UK rap with Simz at her most vulnerable and ambitious. There are meditations on coming of age in the spotlight (“Standing Ovation”), a reunion with fellow Sault collaborator Cleo Sol on the glorious “Woman,” and, in “Point and Kill,” a cleansing, polyrhythmic jam session with Nigerian artist Obongjayar that confirms the record’s dazzling sonic palette. Here, Simz talks us through *Sometimes I Might Be Introvert*, track by track. **“Introvert”** “This was always going to intro the album from the moment it was made. It feels like a battle cry, a rebirth. And with the title, you wouldn\'t expect this to sound so huge. But I’m finding the power within my introversion to breathe new meaning into the word.” **“Woman” (feat. Cleo Sol)** “This was made to uplift and celebrate women. To my peers, my family, my friends, close women in my life, as well as women all over the world: I want them to know I’ve got their back. Linking up with Cleo is always fun; we have such great musical chemistry, and I can’t imagine anyone else bringing what she did to the song. Her voice is beautiful, but I think it\'s her spirit and her intention that comes through when she sings.” **“Two Worlds Apart”** “Firstly, I love this sample; it’s ‘The Agony and the Ecstasy’ by Smokey Robinson, and Flo’s chopped it up really cool. This is my moment to flex. You had the opener, followed by a nice, smoother vibe, but this is like, ‘Hey, you’re listening to a *rap* album.’” **“I Love You, I Hate You”** “This wasn’t the easiest song for me to write, but I\'m super proud that I did. It’s an opportunity for me to lay bare my feelings on how that \[family\] situation affected me, growing up. And where I\'m at now—at peace with it and moving on.” **“Little Q, Pt. 1 (Interlude)”** “Little Q is my cousin, Qudus, on my dad\'s side. We grew up together, but then there was a stage where we didn\'t really talk for some years. No bad blood, just doing different things, so when we reconnected, we had a real heart-to-heart—and I heard about all he’d been through. It made me feel like, ‘Damn, this is a blood relative, and he almost lost his life.’ I thank God he didn’t, but I thought of others like him. And I felt it was important that his story was heard and shared. So, I’m speaking from his perspective.” **“Little Q, Pt. 2”** “I grew up in North London and \[Little Q\] was raised in South, and as much as we both grew up in endz, his experience was obviously different to mine. Being a product of an environment or system that isn\'t really for you, it’s tough trying to navigate that.” **“Gems (Interlude)”** “This is another turning point, reminding myself to take time: ‘Breathe…you\'re human. Give what you can give, but don\'t burn out for anyone. Put yourself first.’ Just little gems that everyone needs to hear once in a while.” **“Speed”** “This track sends another reminder: ‘This game is a marathon, not a sprint. So pace yourself!’ I know where I\'m headed, and I\'m taking my time, with little breaks here and there. Now I know when to really hit the gas and also when to come off a bit.” **“Standing Ovation”** “I take some time to reflect here, like, ‘Wow, you\'re still here and still going. It’s been a slow burn, but you can afford to give yourself a pat on the back.’ But as well as being in the limelight, let\'s also acknowledge the people on the ground doing real amazing work: our key workers, our healers, teachers, cleaners. If you go to a toilet and it\'s dirty, people go in from 9 to 5 and make sure that shit is spotless for you, so let\'s also say thank you.” **“I See You”** “This is a really beautiful and poetic song on love. Sometimes as artists we tend to draw from traumatic times for great art, we’re hurt or in pain, but it was nice for me to be able to draw from a place of real joy in my life for this song. Even where it sits \[on the album\]: right in the center, the heart.” **“The Rapper That Came to Tea (Interlude)”** “This title is a play on \[Judith Kerr’s\] children\'s book *The Tiger Who Came to Tea*, and this is about me better understanding my introversion. I’m just posing questions to myself—I might not necessarily have answers for them, I think it\'s good to throw them out there and get the brain working a bit.” **“Rollin Stone”** “This cut reminds me somewhat of ’09 Simz, spitting with rapidness and being witty. And I’m also finding new ways to use my voice on the second half here, letting my evil twin have her time.” **“Protect My Energy”** “This is one of the songs I\'m really looking forward to performing live. It’s a stepper, and it got me really wanting to sing, to be honest. I very much enjoy being around good company, but these days I enjoy my personal space and I want to protect that.” **“Never Make Promises (Interlude)”** “This one is self-explanatory—nothing is promised at all. It’s a short intermission to lead to the next one, but at one point it was nearly the album intro.” **“Point and Kill” (feat. Obongjayar)** “This is a big vibe! It feels very much like Nigeria to me, and Obongjayar is one of my favorites at the moment. We recorded this in my living room on a whim—and I\'m very, very grateful that he graced this song. The title comes from a phrase used in Nigeria to pick out fish at the market, or a store. You point, they kill. But also metaphorically, whatever I want, I\'m going to get in the same way, essentially.” **“Fear No Man”** “This track continues the same vibe, even more so. It declares: ‘I\'m here. I\'m unapologetically me and I fear no one here. I\'m not shook of anyone in this rap game.’” **“The Garden (Interlude)”** “This track is just amazing musically. It’s about nurturing the seeds you plant. Nurture those relationships, and everything around you that\'s holding you down.” **“How Did You Get Here”** “I want everyone to know *how* I got here; from the jump, school days, to my rap group, Space Age. We were just figuring it out, being persistent. I cried whilst recording this song; it all hit me, like, ‘I\'m actually recording my fourth album.’ Sometimes I sit and I wonder if this is all really true.” **“Miss Understood”** “This is the perfect closer. I could have ended on the last track, easily, but, I don\'t know, it\'s kind of like doing 99 reps. You\'ve done 99, that\'s amazing, but you can do one more to just make it 100, you can. And for me it was like, ‘I\'m going to get this one in there.’”

For athletes of both the professional and amateur ranks, the time between seasons is an opportunity to recuperate and to sharpen their tool set for the next run. Superstar MC J. Cole, whose career has long been informed by both basketball metaphor and actual basketball playing (in May 2021, ESPN reported that Cole had joined the Basketball Africa League\'s Rwanda Patriots BBC), has crafted his *The Off-Season* mixtape in the same mold, affirming that if he’s done anything in the time since 2018’s *KOD* album, it’s get even better at what he does. The 12-track tape is at once a testament to his actual rhyme skill and the reverence he’s earned within hip-hop. He’s sourced production from Boi-1da, Timbaland, Jake One, and T-Minus, among others, and has words—but not verses—from Cam’ron, Damian Lillard, and a man he admits to having once had an actual physical alteration with, Sean “Puff Daddy” Combs. Though he takes time to shout out both Chief Keef and Dave East—conspicuously opposite forces in the realm of contemporary rap—proper features here come from fellow Fayetteville native Morray and “a lot” collaborator 21 Savage. Over the course of his career, Cole’s been known as something of a lone wolf—J CoLe wEnT pLaTiNuM WiTh nO fEaTuReS. But in the scope of the energy we get from him on *The Off-Season*, it’s less likely that he’s been avoiding other rappers than that he\'s just left them all behind.