Music

Year: 2020

Lil Baby secured the solo spotlight with his sophomore album My Turn. It’s easy to mistake his mellow vocals as being devoid of emotion, but his lyricism uncovers the perplexing reality of what it’s like to experience glitz and glamour after coming out of the gutter (“What’s the chances that you run you up a couple mil’?/ And you really come from sleepin’ out the projects?” Baby wonders on “Hurtin.”). And the turbo-speed delivery on songs like the Future-featuring “Live Off My Closet” mimics the rapid rate of his own ascension in the rap game. But he’s ready to become a dignitary on “The Bigger Picture,” a modern-day Black Lives Matter protest anthem where Baby’s poignant reflections about racial injustice galvanize him to lead his community to action: “I got power, now I gotta say somethin’.” Baby earned his first Billboard 200 chart leader with My Turn, and on top of producing two Hot 100 top 10 hits with the deluxe edition’s 42 Dugg-assisted “We Paid” and “The Bigger Picture,” it ended 2020 as the most popular album of the year in the U.S., according to MRC Data, as well as the most-streamed album of the year. — HERAN MAMO

Year: 1995

E-40’s best album, the perfect synthesis of his swaggering flow and the Bay Area style he pioneered, also contains a transcendentally sweet moment. On the socially conscious song “It’s All Bad,” 40 addresses his then-five-year-old son, who asks “Daddy sprinkle me with some more game,” and even raps bars of his own. The track is not the strongest off In a Major Way, that honor belongs to the silky “Sprinkle Me” or “1-Luv,” a moving exploration of life behind bars, but it illustrates why E-40 has endured and grown from a local stalwart to a global hip-hop force: since the earliest days of his career, he’s been molding minds, inventing vocabulary and making music that made the Bay Area’s highly idiosyncratic style feel welcoming and inclusive, even for his own preschooler. — GRANT RINDNER

Year: 1996

For most people, Chicago rap beings when Kanye got into a near-fatal car accident and then threw on a pink Polo shirt. But the Chi has as deep a rap history as any major city. Do or Die, a trio from Chicago’s west side, looms large over that history. After the group found local success with their single “Po Pimp,” they were signed to Houston’s Rap-A-Lot Records where they dropped their gutsy and funky debut. Produced primarily by the Legendary Traxster and featuring a young Tung Twista, Picture This gave Chicago a flag to plant in its home soil while the West and East coasts were dominating the airwaves. — DAMIEN SCOTT

Year: 1991

When it comes to Geto Boys’ third project, the conversation always bends towards “Mind Playing Tricks on Me,” and for good reason. Haunting and morose, the song cut through the noise with an unwavering clarity of purpose: to highlight just how f–ked up it is trying to make it out of a U.S. ghetto when your options are limited to gangster s–t. The rest of the album does well in exploring that motif, giving an unfiltered look at the south that wasn’t being shown in the popular music videos of the day. To call it groundbreaking feels reductive because in reality it decimated the ground it came in on. — D.S.

Year: 1986

After Run-D.M.C. helped bring rap into the modern era with their debut album and then used their second LP to help the genre find new audiences by melding it with rock, Run-D.M.C. was on an unthinkable run. Turned out they had nowhere to go but up: The group’s third album continues its focus on sparse, hard-hitting production as Rick Rubin works his minimalist magic, pulling from all places to create a sound bed authentic enough for rap purists but accessible and innovative enough to break through into the mainstream. Run and D.M.C. pen songs that span the gamut of black life in the ’80s, covering everything from the shoes people wore (“My Adidas”) to the struggles the endured (“Proud to Be Black”). But Raising Hell‘s reality is that, thanks for the aforementioned songs and tracks like the Aerosmith collab “Walk This Way,” both rap and Run-D.M.C. began to go mainstream. — D.S.

Year: 1990

Nearly 40 years after the 1985 release of his debut album Radio, the ladies still love cool James. And that’s thanks to a canon of seminal albums in the ‘80s and early ‘90s that played a pivotal role in shaping and proving rap’s mainstream appeal. With this — his double-platinum, Marley Marl-produced 1990 fourth studio album — LL knocked aside naysayers who thought prior album Walking With a Panther leaned too pop for the room. Classics like the hard-hitting title track (which nabbed the Grammy for best rap solo performance) and neighborhood romance romp “Around the Way Girl” proved his rap gamesmanship hadn’t lost any of its authenticity. — GAIL MITCHELL

Year: 1991

With a catalog full of classics that resoundingly vibrated through the underground in the ’80s and ’90s, EPMD’s third LP (their first release on Def Jam) not only makes this list, but gets the crown as their best work. This opus (and stunning album artwork) was chiefly inspired by anger towards haters and their former label Sleeping Bag Records (“I’m Mad” is the literally the first song on the track list). Erick and Parrish were in fact not making the dollars they felt they deserved, especially with two consecutive gold, critically acclaimed albums in the two years prior to Business as Usual.

Undeterred, EPMD focused. They delivered an adamantium-strong, well-rounded project smothered in underground funk. It is replete with seismic bangers, whimsical concept tales, and outlandish storytelling continuation. Notwithstanding, LL Cool J masterfully assaulted “Rampage” with one of his greatest guest verses and Redman made a brilliantly belligerent debut on “Hardcore.” – SHAHEEM REID

Year: 1999

Before Lil Wayne became the superstar of Cash Money Records, B.G. was seen as one of the label’s franchise players – and his album Chopper City in the Ghetto was proof of why. His deep, slinky-voiced street tales provided an alluring contrast to Mannie Fresh’s skittering hi-hats and synthetic horns and cymbals, a bouncy late-’90s evolution of the jazz that was such a strong part of their New Orleans heritage. While Geezy was plenty strong on his own, as he says on the album’s second-most-notable song, “Cash Money Is an Army.” But the high point is “Bling Bling,” a song where he and his fellow Hot Boyz compatriots join forces for a glitzy, synth-heavy celebration of jewelry that became a permanent staple of hip-hop lingo. — WILLIAM E. KETCHUM

Year: 1995

Three 6 Mafia made history winning an Oscar for their musical contribution to the 2005 Memphis rap drama Hustle & Flow, but any track pulled from 1995’s Mystic Stylez could be the most memorable music cue in a horror classic. The group didn’t invent horrorcore, but fused it with authentic southern rap in a way that is still influencing teenage artists nearly three decades later. Many of the album’s beats (from DJ Paul and Juicy J of course), move with the slow, but undeniable pace of a movie killer stalking their prey, and act as a perfect contrast to the nimble flows — which even led to a brief beef between the group and Bone Thugs-n-Harmony. With Memphis currently in the midst of a rap renaissance, the importance of LPs like Mystic Stylez is why Three 6 Mafia’s stamp of approval remains invaluable for the city’s rising talent. — G.R.

Year: 2017

The beloved Atlanta trio shook up the rap game and became a pop culture phenomenon with its second full-length album Culture. The first of the Culture trilogy, the 13-track set is the most concise showcase of the group’s compelling sonic DNA: a rapid-fire triplet flow that revolutionized cadences in rap music; memorable ad-libs and slang terms that’ve entered the hip-hop lexicon; and classic ATL trap production courtesy of top producers like Zaytoven, DJ Durel and Murda Beatz. Its lead single “Bad and Boujee,” featuring Lil Uzi Vert, became an epochal moment in Migos’ career — primarily due to its iconic “Raindrop, drop-top/ Smokin’ on cookie in the hotbox” chorus that spurred internet memes; Donald Glover thanked Migos for making the track while hailing them as “the Bealtes of this generation” at the 2017 Golden Globes. Culture did cement Migos as the one of the most influential acts in rap and transformed the group into a commercially successful act: It earned Migos its first Billboard 200-topping album and first set of Grammy nominations in 2018, for best rap album and best rap performance with “Bad and Boujee,” which also became the group’s first Hot 100 No. 1 smash. Given the group’s tragic ending – Takeoff was killed in 2022, Quavo and Offset reportedly had a falling out and Migos officially disbanded in 2023 – Culture serves as an excellent remembrance of better times.  — H.M.

Year: 1992

Back in the early ’90s when N.W.A was dominating the charts with its brand of visceral gangster rap, there didn’t seem to be much room for anything else. But else where a movement was brewing. A movement that valued novelty over realism and fun over pathos. A leading project of that movement was the Pharcyde’s debut — which is full of, well, bizarre tales, which make you nod your head and laugh out loud. The group went left of what was popping on the radio and made something wholly original. A lot of that can be credited to J-Swift, the eccentric genius producer who helmed the project. It may be trite, but after Bizarre Ride II the Pharcyde nothing was the same. — D.S.

Year: 1990

Raucous, unsettling, radically heartening, Fear of a Black Planet is a generation-transcending masterpiece, where P.E. takes us from the revolution war room to the frontlines on the road to Black empowerment. “Welcome To The Terrordome” was so alluringly agitating, Mike Tyson used the P.E. catalog staple as his anthem when he walked to the ring en route to decapitating opponents. Chuck D spoke for all young Blacks who were fighting societal oppression, but who had the rebellious wherewithal to never submit, rapping “I got so much trouble on my mind/ Refuse!/ To Lose!” That inexorable conviction is so omnipresent throughout the LP, especially on the unrelenting “Brothers Gonna Work It Out,” which you can consider the big brother to Kendrick Lamar’s “Alright.” Meanwhile, “Fight the Power” is the grandson of James Brown’s “Say It Loud – I’m Black and I’m Proud” as the greatest hip-hop call to arms for the Black community. — S.R.

Year: 1991

Let’s get the obvious joke out of the way: Yes, the guy most kids know as a cop on the long-running Law & Order: SVU was a gangsta rap pioneer. Not only was he a pioneer, Ice-T made a certifiable classic of the form with his fourth album. Sprawling at 24 tracks, O.G. offered a nuanced take on street life with T questioning a lot of the actions he would go on to brag about. But instead of derailing the party, the contradictions make for a more absorbing listen, lending humanity to a genre many viewed as cold and antisocial. Turns out that’s just want the people wanted as O.G. debuted at No. 15 on the Billboard 200 and wound up going gold, setting a new standard for gangster rap in its wake. — D.S.

Year: 1999

For their first few albums together, The Roots were already more than just a novelty act: They were known as the first “hip-hop band,” bringing the jazzy energy of jam sessions to their music and building a reputation for a unique live show. But with Things Fall Apart, they began to forge their artistic identity with more conviction. Named after a seminal novel by renowned African author Chinua Achebe and beginning with a skit that stems from disenchanted jazz musicians in Spike Lee’s Mo Betta Blues, the group wanted to make a statement about their careers and their place in the hip-hop lexicon. Questlove began to integrate the off-kilter hip-hop soul that was perfected by Soulquarian peers like J Dilla, Erykah Badu and D’Angelo, while rappers Black Thought, Malik B and Dice Raw were in a zone — dropping brilliant verses alongside a roster of all-star MCs like Mos Def, Common, a young Beanie Sigel, and Eve, the latter appearing with Badu on the soulful, Grammy-winning love song “You Got Me.” — W.E.K.

Year: 2005

When the West Coast craved a new rap face in the 2000s, The Game gladly accepted, rejuvenating an entire region. With Dr. Dre and 50 Cent on speed dial, The Game leapfrogged his peers on 2005’s The Documentary. Though 50’s songwriting wizardry on “How We Do” and “Hate It Or Love It” gave Game mainstream appeal, it was Chuck Taylor’s grittiness and lyrical finesse on “Dreams,” “Start From Scratch” and “Runnin” that truly solidified his debut album. — CARL LAMARRE

Year: 1994

It’s sounds boring in 2024, but you can really divide southern rap into two eras: Before Outkast and After Outkast. Before Outkast most thought of southern rap as mostly bass booty anthems and party songs. Sure, there were some outliers, but none made a big enough impact to change the perception. Then came Antwon “Big Boi” Patton and André “Andre 3000” Benjamin. Their debut, Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik, is a heady album, one that works hard to prove that young black men all around the country are facing the same issues — and that gangstas and playas come in all shapes and sizes. It was revelatory at the time, and is still effective three decades later. All of rap — not just in the south, either — owes a debt of gratitude to Outkast. — D.S.

Year: 1989

If you’re of a certain age, you may have no idea who The D.O.C. is. Well, he was one of the best rappers to come out of the West Coast, even though he was originally from Texas. He co-founded Death Row records and wrote a gang of hits for N.W.A. He also dropped one of the best albums of the ’80s in No One Can Do It Better. Produced by Dr. Dre, D.O.C.’s debut was filled with expertly tailored funk riffs and drums that could knock a sub from a ’64 loose. Tracks like “Mind Blown,” “The Formula” and “The D.O.C. & The Doctor” showed a nimble MC who reinvigorated Ruthless Records with his classic debut. — D.S.

Year: 2003

By the time The Diplomats released their double-disc debut under Roc-A-Fella Records, their name had already been ringing bells in New York City. The group, co-founded by Cam’ron and Jim Jones, was rooted in decades of friendship from growing up together in Harlem, and they’d gone on a historic mixtape run in 2002 where they’d established their own slang, sound and USA-inspired iconography. As a result, Diplomatic Immunity was a fully-formed presentation: Cam, Jim, Juelz and Freaky Zeeky had brilliant chemistry with differing rap styles, Heatmakerz and Just Blaze supplied them with brilliantly triumphant soul samples, and kids around the country were walking around with fitted hats and throwback jerseys three sizes too big. — W.E.K.

Year: 1988

As one of the genre’s pioneering foremothers, Queens, NY-bred rapper MC Lyte – born Lana Michele Moorer – helped kick down the door for female MCs to stand toe-to-toe with their male counterparts. The diminutive dynamo released her critically acclaimed debut album, an Audio Two production, at the age of 18. On what’s been touted as the first full album by a female rapper as a solo artist, the husky-voiced Lyte fearlessly tackled socially conscious and personal matters such as infidelity (“Paper Thin”), drug addiction (“I Cram to Understand U [Sam]”) and beat-stealing (“10% Dis”) — alongside the symbolic title track — through deft rhymes that still resonate. — G.M.

Year: 2001

Few artists have been able to merge the worlds of hip-hop and R&B as inventively as Missy Elliott, and her third album arguably sees her at the peak of her creative powers. She and Timbaland had already been hot since 20 years ago by then — and they teamed up to co-produce one of the spaciest, quirkiest batches of beats you’ll ever hear, which Missy takes on with stunning versatility. She demands men hold their own in the bedroom on “One Minute Man,” delivers a sincere, romantic ballad with “Take Away,” and provides the club an eternal staple in “Get Ur Freak On.” Futuristic production, limber flows and velvety vocals: Missy Elliott has it all, and there’s never been anyone in hip-hop like her. — W.E.K.

Year: 2019

A string of successful singles, like 2018’s “Die Young” and 2019’s “Ballin’” with Mustard, and a co-sign from West Coast heavyweight Nipsey Hussle set up Compton MC Roddy Ricch for his debut album Please Excuse Me for Being Antisocial. His melodic approach and acoustic-driven hip-hop production add a smooth coating to his gritty rags-to-riches tale — but lines like “‘Cause I ain’t sure why my dawg had to make the news reel/ Got promethazine in my eyes, I’m cryin’ purple tears” on the “Intro” prove a Rolex can’t be a Band-Aid for life’s real problems. Its fourth single, “The Box,” morphed into a monster smash, with a swelling orchestral intro, squeaky “eee err” ad-libs and thunderous reverse 808s underlying Ricch’s shape-shifting vocal delivery. Please Excuse Me earned Roddy his first Billboard 200-topping album as well as his first Hot 100 No. 1 with “The Box,” which spent 11 weeks at the top, snagged three 2021 Grammy nominations (including song of the year) and was certified diamond by the RIAA.  — H.M.

Year: 2018

Named after the defunct Six Flags AstroWorld in Travis Scott’s Houston hometown, Astroworld invites listeners into Scott’s custom-built world of pandemonium. His wildly entertaining fusion of psychedelic and trap music makes for Scott’s finest production, inciting his trademark mosh pits with the LP’s mind-boggling main attraction, the Drake-assisted “Sicko Mode,” and levitating to a state of euphoria with the help of Stevie Wonder’s dizzying harmonica riffs, James Blake’s ghastly moans and Kid Cudi’s stirring hums on “Stop Trying to Be God,” or Tame Impala’s kaleidoscopic instrumentals and The Weeknd’s ethereal falsetto on “Skeletons.” Astroworld remains Scott’s strongest project in his discography as well as his most decorated: The 17-song set earned the rapper his second Billboard 200-topping album and first best rap album nomination at the 2019 Grammys, where “Sicko Mode” — which became Scott’s first Hot 100 No. 1 and first diamond-certified song — was also nominated for best rap song and best rap performance. — H.M.

Year: 2004

Madlib and MF Doom’s respective legacies as underground rap pillars would still exist if their 2004 joint LP Madvillainy didn’t exist, but would lack a crystallizing release that has come to be a seminal gateway record for any fans looking to explore rap’s more idiosyncratic realms. It’s a true superhero showdown, with Doom reeling off some of his most lyrically dense-yet-quotable bars atop Madlib’s collaged beats (“Mad plays the bass like the race card” remains one of the greatest mid-track producer shoutouts ever). Songs like “Meat Grinder” and “Figaro” are off-kilter, but menacing, like a Yorgos Lanthimos movie, while “Raid” and “America’s Most Blunted” honor East and West Coast rap without compromising the essential askewness of Madlib and Doom. — G.R.

Year: 1993

Thanks to Yo Gotti, GloRilla, and Moneybag Yo, Memphis rap has been in the mainstream spotlight for the past half decade. But long before CMG became a dominant force, Suave House and its premier duo, 8Ball & MJG, put Memphis rap on the map. The duo’s debut album is soulful tour of the city known as the birthplace of Rock ‘n’ Roll. However, instead of taking listeners to Graceland, they show rap fans the illicit underbelly of the city, where pimps reign supreme and pushers move weight like it’s legal. Over production that mixes blues, soul and funk into a wonderfully dank concoction, the two MCs play off each other — 8Ball’s chill, luxurious flow and MJG’s spitfire approach — to bring to life a side of Memphis most had never seen before. — D.S.

Year: 1991

Sometimes Cypress Hill’s discography can be unfairly flattened to just their frat party classics (“Insane in the Brain,” “Hits From the Bong”), but listening to any of their first four records in full cements why the group remains a uniquely revered part of L.A.’s storied rap history. In some ways, their buck-wild approach to collaborative rap made them an answer to Beastie Boys or Wu-Tang Clan, but they also provided a bridge from the early days of gangsta rap into a new phase of West Coast rap, one that could be vivid and violent, but also playful (“Hole in the Head,” “How I Could Just Kill a Man”). — G.R.