Kendrick Lamar the Car, the Prophet and the Rapper - "gnx" Album Analysis

G.N.X. Three letters are the title of the new Kendrick Lamar album, and I would argue that there are three different Kendricks on this album: Kendrick the Car, Kendrick the Prophet, and Kendrick the Rapper. Let's get into my analysis. Thank you for auditing the always positive New Music Review Show, hosted by a French professor who's going to start with the Car.

G.N.X. People always ask, "What the hell does that mean?" Well, I'm going to explain it. I've seen a lot of people online saying, "Oh, Generation X." Yeah, that sort of works, except for the fact that he is the opposite of a Generation X rapper. He was born in 1987.

Gen X ended in 1980. That doesn't work at all. No, let's take him at his word. If he's sitting in front of a Buick Grand National GNX, then we should assume that’s what he means by GNX. But a car is not just a car.

A car is never just a car—certainly not if it's what you're naming your album after. Certainly not in Kendrick's oeuvre with this famous minivan, right? So right off the bat, throughout the album, this car is mentioned. I think its best example is in "TVR," where he says, "All I ever wanted was a black Grand National," right?

So all he ever wanted was that. So what does it mean? What does this car mean? It's an exclusive car. It's a powerful car.

It's a surprising car, and it's a car for those who know cars. Now, listen, you can go out there and watch a documentary called "Black Air," the Buick Grand National documentary by Andrew Philippone Jr. I'll include a link to it in the description, and that's what I watched to understand this better.

And it's a fascinating story. The story of the Buick Grand National is actually very cool for a car story. Because it's a GM car—General Motors, you know. The same people who make Pontiacs and Chevrolets make GM cars, you know. But they're known for muscle cars, you know.

Like the Corvette or whatever, Firebirds, all that, right? But that's not what Buick is known for. Buicks were not known for that. As a matter of fact, the documentary explains that before the Grand National, their slogan was "Substantial, Distinctive, Powerful, and Mature." That was what they called themselves. Then they made this absolutely insane, fast car called the Grand National that was literally faster than a Ferrari. It was boxy as hell—like a weird-looking, odd-angular mess of a car. In the documentary, they referred to it as a "tennis champion wearing a tuxedo."

But let's not get lost here by talking about the Buick Grand National, because that's not what this is actually about. There are lots of Buick Grand Nationals, but there are only 547 GNXs. You see, the Grand National was the last of a dying breed. It was made during a time when the car industry was changing.

And one of the things that was changing was performance. Performance was being sacrificed in favor of efficiency, sellability, and practicality. One of the ways this manifested was a move away from rear-wheel drive. Now, you’ve probably never driven a rear-wheel drive car, unless you’re wealthy.

Rear-wheel drive is very different from front-wheel drive. Think about it. With front-wheel drive, the front wheels pull you along. You're like a little baby being dragged, you know? You're like a tiny baby being pulled in a little Radio Flyer wagon.

And you're like, "Oh, thank you, Mommy. Can I set the cruise control? You know, can I have drive assist? I want to go while driving, right? That's where we're headed."

That's where cars are headed. With rear-wheel drive, you are propelled from the back, so you better have control—especially if you have a lot of power. It's an amazing feeling. The reason the GNX existed was that Buick was phasing out rear-wheel drive cars; they only had the Grand National left.

All of GM only had the Grand National, I believe, the Grand National and the Corvette. Correct me, car guys, if I'm wrong. They had more back in 1987, but suddenly after '87 all they had was the Corvette. They decided to go out in an absolute blaze of glory. See, it was this weird interstitial period between the muscle cars of the '60s and '70s and the computerized cars of today.

During that time, this little car was created, and it seems like it was almost out of time and out of place. How could this car actually exist? They went so far as to work with McLaren. Yes, this is the same McLaren that made the McLaren F1, the same company known for producing all the great race cars, including those associated with Senna and others.

They produced 547 of these absolute beasts and sold them only to dealers who would apply markups. However, the sticker price was $29,000, which is equivalent to $80,000 in today's money. That's a significant amount until you consider that it was faster than the Ferrari F40, which had a price tag of $399,000—about $1.1 million in today's money. For under $100,000, you could go faster than a million-dollar car. So where is all of this leading?

What does this have to do with Kendrick Lamar? He also mentions a black Grand National. This is not a coincidence. Now listen, some people in the comments say, "Sky, all Grand Nationals were black." That's false.

All Grand Nationals after 1984 were black, but certainly, all GNXs were black. All right, so all he ever wanted was this car, this GNX. So what does this mean? What are all the things? The whole time I've been talking about the car, I could almost also sort of kind of have been talking about Kendrick Lamar.

Not for nothing, too. When you think of a big, powerful car, what comes to mind? That engine, right? You think of a V12, maybe a V10, or at the very least, a V8. No. The Buick Grand National has a V6.

Only six little pistons there making all that power. You know, you don't have to be big to be powerful. You can be a little guy and have the whole world at your feet. So let's summarize the Buick GNX in the context of Kendrick Lamar. The Buick Grand National GNX is a shocking representation of black excellence from 1987.

The year of Kendrick's birth, 1987, marked a moment of shocking Black excellence that can be seen as the last gasp of great American art. This form of artistry, which is certainly appreciated by anyone for its rarity and power, is best appreciated by those with taste and discernment. I just described a grand national, and I just described Kendrick Lamar. Shocking Black excellence from 1987 can be viewed as the last breath of an extraordinary American art that resonates with everyone, but truly shines for those with cultivated taste and understanding. He is the embodiment of greatness.

Now let's not forget that this is not nothing. He's not just throwing these things out there. I don't care how many times he says he's just making this to be felt; it has meaning. Cars have meaning.

Especially in West Coast rap, cars play a significant role. In East Coast rap, they don't have the same prominence. Sometimes they do, but it's less common. Okay, fine?

Packing it back in the back of the act: Big Punisher, and obviously Lexuses and all that. Fine. And Bentleys, okay, fine. But really, Los Angeles is car culture; New York is not. When you study hip-hop, you see that long, nice history of General Motors car culture.

If I were to ask you to give me one lyric that defines West Coast rap, you would tell me in the comments. You might be revealing your age, but I can tell you, as someone who has been around for a long time and listened to a lot of rap music, the definitive line in rap history when it comes to gangster rap is the following: "Cruising down the street in my six-four."

That's it. That's the essence. Okay, fine. If some of you put six police at my door in the morning, fine. You get credit, too.

You can also give it to Ice-T. But when we're talking about the beginnings, we’re talking about "Boyz-n-the-Hood" by Eazy-E, cruising down the street in my '64. If you've never read "Original Gangsters," it's a really nice book about the birth of West Coast rap. There's a funny scene in it.

Ice Cube actually wrote the song. Ironically, I was going to do an Ice Cube video today, and then Kendrick dropped out of nowhere. Disrespectful. But anyway, Ice Cube wrote these lyrics, and they were trying to give them to an East Coast group, right? They were trying to give the song "Boys in the Hood" to Homeboys Only.

And the homeboys were like, "What is this?" I'm going to quote Ice Cube: they were asking, "What are you talking about? What's a 6'4"?" And I could tell you were growing, Cube.

They were like, "What are you talking about? What's a 6'4"?" And I could tell you, growing up, I was like, "What is a 6'4"? What is a 6.4?" Now you might know what a 6.4 is.

You probably do. Do you know why you know what a 6.4 is? You know what a 6.4 is because of N.W.A, because of Eazy-E, because of rap music. It is a '64 Chevrolet Impala, a great car for low riding. In fact, Chevrolet Impalas have a unique trait in their construction that features a sort of "X" shape in the middle, which is what makes them so good for hydraulics.

Lifting and lowering, but not just, you know, Chevelles. Okay, we're talking El Caminos. There's a whole series of Chevrolet cars that are all tied into West Coast rap. So, I think taking a Buick—different generation, different generation. It's not a '64; it's an '87. You understand what I'm saying? It's not Generation X. It's not the '70s. It is not the '80s.

It is not someone who was on the streets. During the Ronald Reagan era, it was somebody who was born in the Ronald Reagan era. It’s not good from far, okay, but that's what it is. And really, if you go even deeper, deeper, deeper, deeper, deeper— you know, GMs, gangster rap, the car that killed Biggie. The car that killed Biggie was a 1994 to 1996 Chevy Caprice Classic SS Impala, my dream car, purple by the way.

Like five of those in, we should be able to figure out who it was that killed them, just based on the fact that it's a purple car. Right there on Wilshire and Fairfax, right in front of the diner where the diner scene in *Pulp Fiction* was filmed, is where Biggie was killed. I can get you a toe from *The Big Lebowski*, that same diner, and of course, the car museum. To me, this idea of a GNX places Kendrick in the long tradition of West Coast rappers with their love of cars. I was trying to explain to my daughter how bad car culture is in Los Angeles. I told her that if I were going to eat with three of my friends—because I lived in Los Angeles for a year—if we were going to eat at a restaurant just a five-minute walk away, all four of us would take our cars separately.

And I don’t even really know why, but that’s what it is. Car culture in LA is so bad. One time, I was walking, and a person pulled up next to me in a car and asked me for money. He was panhandling in a car while I was walking.

That's how much it's car culture. I'm not joking; that really happened. I was walking through a Chevron right near Jamba Juice. Actually, I think I was on Santa Monica. Anyway, I can show you there next time we're together.

This whole idea of a long tradition, the car tradition, and the same love that Ice Cube had for his 6'4" ties into a different version, a different generation. Also, hey, not for nothing, what's going on with cars? We have Tyler, the Creator; I did a whole piece about how he insists that he doesn't know how to be monogamous or settle down, but the way he talks about his cars is similar to how most people talk about their partners. In the span of about a month, we now have two of the biggest rappers of the moment focusing on one single car each.

I looked it up. The Enzo would probably win in a street race against the GNX. A Ferrari from 1987 can get beaten by a GNX, but the Enzo is a lot faster. That made me think and led me off on a whole other tangent. If there are any hip-hop heads watching, please help me out here.

Rappers rap about cars, but not about specific cars. So all I can think of is Tyler's Enzo, Kendrick's GNX, and Chuck D's '88 Oldsmobile. So, you tell me, what are the other specific cars? Okay, so that's the car angle.

What about the prophet? You see, he mentions in the song that we incarnated the Book of Isaiah. He brings it up for reasons that I'll explain when I get to that song. It really got me thinking; in fact, it sparked my research.

Because, you know, I've done Bible study. My dad was a preacher before I was born; he was a preacher, and my brother is a very religious man. And yeah, I studied the Bible, right?

But you know, I was aware of Isaiah, but I did some research on him, and what's interesting is he is perceived in the following way: he is the prophet of judgment and hope. He served the people of Jerusalem as an intermediary from God to them. He would tell them that God was not happy and that they needed to change their ways.

You have broken the covenant. You are living in idolatry. You are oppressing the poor. You are not being good to God. You are not following your word.

You are not following the Way, and you will be judged. That's what he said. You will be judged. Abyssinia, and then Babylon, will punish you.

The state will punish you for your wickedness, not God. God's instrument will be Babylon. These nations will be sent to punish the failure of the Israelites to be good to God. To me, this is very clearly what has been happening this year.

That's who Kendrick has been. Now listen, there's not God here; it's the culture, okay? It's the concept of hip-hop as an important Black American culture that carries with it Black American values and is made for and by Black Americans. It is being usurped, distorted, and destroyed, being made wicked by users, okay? And that's why, in his judgment, he has to let the party die.

That's what letting the party die is. Babylon is Drake, okay? And I don't mean Drake the person; I mean Drake the idea. Babylon is Jack Harlow's A&R, okay?

Babylon is the fact. There are only three record companies. Babylon represents all of the things that have happened to this great art that emerged from the voice of the voiceless—the people who had nothing yet created the most important cultural movement in the history of human civilization. I've made that claim, I will back it up, and I still stand by it. It has been sold out.

That God sent Babylon, and the culture sent Drake to destroy what was wicked. He embodies what the culture is feeling, and he is communicating with the culture. That is why his wrath is holy. Holy. It is a holy war.

I've said this before, and I apologize to all my Muslim brothers and sisters, okay? When I said that jihad means holy war, I meant that it signifies struggle. It has been appropriated by many people to simply mean holy war. While that is one definition of the term, it's not the only one. Let's just stick to the term "holy war." This is his holy war.

And so that's what he's trying to do. He's trying to show the destruction that has occurred and ensure that everything that was there is gone. But Isaiah is not just about judgment. He's not merely talking about how Babylon will destroy you; he also brings hope.

He explains how God's blessings will come, how a king will be sent, and how there will be a New Jerusalem. That New Jerusalem will be in accordance with God, and everyone will receive the bounty of God once they have this new king. I also think that's what Kendrick is doing. I believe that's why he's part of what Read My Soul calls this great reset. This is what we're all noticing.

This is what Culture United talked about on our stream the other day, right? Like, last month. It's this thing that's happening where we're getting to a new Jerusalem of hip-hop. We might be; we could be.

We look at this year where Drake flopped, and Schoolboy Q and Doechii are absolutely killing it, and it's like, oh wait a minute, maybe, maybe this is happening again. Maybe this is a great moment. I think Kendrick is trying to help that happen. We see it with the artists that he's supporting, the artists that he's promoting, and the way that his holy war is always against the wicked. It's never against the just.

In terms of culture, I don't mean in reference to God or the state, nor do I mean in terms of good people or bad people. Just a side note here: as a researcher, one of the worst feelings is when you look up a topic to see if someone has already said what you intended to say. It's a very nerve-wracking moment. I looked up Kendrick Profitt, and perhaps the best piece of writing on Kendrick Lamar available on the internet is by a guy named Rodney Carmichael from NPR. I'll include a link to that in the description as well.

In this 2017 article, he describes why "Damn" is so good and refers to Kendrick as a prophet. He was the first to label him a prophet, but not Isaiah. I'm going to quote him now; this is Rodney Carmichael's writing.

The Old Testament is full of prophets trying their hardest to save the world. However, the first obstacle they must overcome is self—self-doubt, self-loathing, and even their personal aversion to self-sacrifice. Does that sound familiar? Does that sound like Kendrick to you?

It sounds like Kendrick to me. Later, there was Jeremiah. He suffered from depression so badly, likely from carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, that students of the Bible refer to him as the Weeping Prophet. Some have even taken to calling him something else: the patron saint of Kendrick Lamar Duckworth.

Beautiful writing. Seriously, read the whole thing. It's great. Carrying the burden of the world on his shoulders—I think that was true.

I think that was him. I think that was Kendrick in 2017. But this is not Jeremiah Rapp. This is not him burdened by carrying the weight of everything. He is not our savior.

He is not. He hasn't been a savior all year. He's a prophet, and he's bringing judgment, and he's bringing hope. G and X.

Let's get to that x. Let's get to the rapper. Ladies and gentlemen, I've had a weird time, okay? This album came out. I'll talk about what happened when it dropped, but I'm going to break the rapper into three parts.

Okay, because I think what makes this album—first of all, the whole question is: Is this a masterpiece? I don't know. I don't know if it's a classic. I'm going to Instagram and tell people, like, "Scott, you've got to wait to write about these things. The album just came out."

Hey, listen, I love you. I love you. I love you if you wrote that comment. But also, fuck off. Just, you know, hey.

I have a lot to say. One of the things I do that I think is impressive and interesting is how fast my mind works and how quickly it makes connections. So I hope there's some kind of joy in seeing me work, okay? In seeing me cook, as you kids like to say. But that being said, I don't know if it's a masterpiece.

I will say this, though: we're spoiled. We're spoiled. Because I'm not sure this is a top five rap album this year. I'm not sure.

And it's this good. It is Kendrick Lamar firing on all cylinders, doing something new, interesting, and dynamic that gets the culture going. It gets people asking questions, reading, and feeling excited. It makes people stop what they're doing—stop watching videos, stop watching TV—and start shouting into the ether because they are so thrilled that an artist at the top of his game is still producing. That might not be the best album of the year. It might not even be in the top five best rap albums of the year. But that's the year we are living in.

And that's part of the year that we're living in, thanks to Kendrick himself for being the genius who kept muscle cars, who kept American engineering, who kept the ridiculousness and the beauty of American culture alive. Anyway, I see there being three modes on this album. I forget what I was talking about. That was not in my notes. I entered a fugue state, a fugue state, as some people would say.

So I think there are three modes to Kendrick as a rapper on this album, which is what makes it so interesting. You might wonder, is it a masterpiece? Well, it's not a unified work. Whatever it is, it doesn't present as one cohesive piece. It doesn't have the polish of "Mr. Morale," which is also awesome, nor does it have the polish of "Damn," which is also great.

It does have the lack of polish of *Untitled Unmastered*, which is also awesome. So, first of all, we have your bitter battle bangers. The album is called *Bitter Banger Battles*. And yes, try saying "bitter banger bangles." Walk like an Egyptian.

We're going to get to the Egyptians later, and it's just about how great he is. He's still in the moment. You know, like, sharks, right?

When they smell blood, they go into a frenzy. Drake sent him into a frenzy. And the thing about frenzies is that after they've eaten all the fish, they are still hungry. So you could put a fax machine in the water, and the shark will try to eat that thing. He's in a frenzy.

And this is part of his holy wrath. This is the way that he fights on behalf of the culture. The way that he fights is through his holy wrath and his bitter battle bangers. Yeah. Did I try to create a Red Sox logo?

I did. Is that how well I can draw a Red Sox logo? Through his holy rap and his bitter battle bangers. Okay? Yeah, did I try to do a Red Sox logo?

I did. Is that how well I can draw a Red Sox logo? It is. Is it supposed to be a boxing glove? It is.

I'm also imitating the best Nintendo game, Mike Tyson's Punch-Out. So that's the majority of the album. We also have sweet love songs. Do you know how hard it is to make graphics for your videos when you have a two-year-old constantly trying to steal your Sharpies? It's this hard.

Okay? Soul and R&B. There’s not just one song that fits perfectly into this genre, but there is another song that comes close. It’s more about the concept he presents in the opening track: "Riding in my GNX with Anita Baker in the tape deck, it’s going to be sweet love." Hence, sweet love songs.

And I find this interesting because, like, I've been… If you watch my videos, you know I'm obsessed with this idea: that there's a kind of Black music that white people don't hear. It's not that they hate it or dislike it. It's just that, even though the majority of art and music that white people enjoy is either created or performed by Black people, there is still a kind of R&B and soul music that goes beyond—I don't know—melanin in the eardrums? I don't know what it is.

And so I made this to try to describe that. Okay, this is called the Vandrotis Scale. It measures white appreciation of soul and R&B music.

And you see over here, you have Otis Redding, Marvin Gaye, Smokey Robinson, and you could probably throw in James Brown as well. Al Green, when he was secular. Okay. Over here on this side, this is music that generally appeals to white audiences. I don't have an answer for you, by the way, but you can give me an answer.

And this is just personal. Maybe you are a white person who loves Teddy Pendergrass. I totally believe that it must exist. Okay. But it's an interesting thing because in this sort of imaginary line that I have here between these two pieces of paper, you know, you have your Lou Rawls, you have your Anita Baker, Teddy Pendergrass, and Luther Vandross.

And I can tell you that when I was getting into soul music and R&B, I tried listening to all of these musicians, but there was just something on this side that did not connect with me. I believe that through his references, his samples, and some of his songwriting, he is trying to create an album that is pleasing to this side. Okay? It's pleasing over here. You know, I don't know.

And I think, again, I’m going to quote my Culture United colleague. I'm not in the position to properly contextualize this, but what I imagine is that he's trying to make music like the music his parents would listen to. I think I saw Rob Markman talk about the fact that he referenced Anita Baker and that his mom loved Anita Baker. So I think that is an important aspect of where he is not afraid to lose me, Mr. White Audience Guy.

That's my name. Okay, so now that we've established the Vandross scale, by the way, if you're a Luther Vandross fan, tell me which is the best. I'm going to buy a Luther Vandross CD, so you tell me which one is the best to get. That's the second thing. And then, listen, we've still got morale music.

He's still Mr. Morale. This album is very Mr. Morale, okay? That's supposed to be a crown of thorns. Again, very Mr. Morale, okay? That's supposed to be a crown of thorns.

Again, a two-year-old is trying to grab the Sharpie. He's still very much focused on self-help, figuring out who he is and his place in the universe. He's engaging in discussions about the artistic process and is exploring spirituality, including concepts like past life therapy.

In the teaser, he references spirituality. What's interesting, though, is that he's in morale mode, but not in the essential message of "Mr. Morale," which was "I choose me." He is not in "I choose me" mode; he is in profit mode.

Okay, so those are the three different things. I can't tell if I hate these graphics or if I love them, so I will either continue to bring them up throughout the video or I will forget them. If you don't know, I don't edit my videos, so it's all a mystery to me. I don't know how long this is—what, 28 minutes long? Hey, I've almost talked about a song.

Some more thoughts? Okay, so these are not fully formed ideas; they are just thoughts I’m throwing out there. These are untitled, unmastered reflections. He’s not afraid of losing you.

Not Afraid of Losing You. He is; this is a very surprising and shocking album. He is not afraid of losing you, and one way he expresses this is through his guest appearances. What were we expecting from a Christian album? I was expecting something different.

I was expecting Lecrae and D-Wan, along with a whole bunch of other great Christian rappers that I've never heard of. I was expecting a full version of "Let the Party Die." It wasn't that. Or he could have had – he could have.

Who would have said no to Kendrick Lamar? Okay, Nicki Minaj would have said no. That's it. Okay, Drake would have said yes. If he were asked, Drake would have said yes.

I think Nicki Minaj is the only rapper on Earth who would have said no to appearing with Kendrick Lamar. And that's meaningful because he had all the power, all the access, and all eyes on him. He is the most important artist in the world right now. And who does he pick? Hitta Three.

What? Dodie? Who are these people? Hey, hey, did you get mad at me for saying, "Who are these people?" Do you know why I said, "Who are these people?"

Because I don’t front, okay? I don’t front. I could pretend like I know all the guest appearances from these people, but I haven’t. Do you know why I haven’t heard them? Because I’m not a real one.

I'm not a real West Coast rap fan. I don't browse the blogs. I don’t hang out on Crenshaw asking who’s got tapes in the back of their Caprice. You know, I don’t do that. I’m not familiar with that world or those people. I didn’t know who they were, but now I do. Oh, Kendrick is a gatekeeper? Is that who he is? Or did he just take us to the gate and say, "Hey, do you want to see what’s going on in the West Coast right now? Do you want to check out some of the rappers we have?" Hey, would you like me to put you up on game one more time? Instead of teaching you about Reconstruction-era American politics and labor relations, I could introduce you to all these West Coast rappers who are going to be taken more seriously, who can say for the rest of their lives, "Hey, I was on a Kendrick album."

I chose me, I’m sorry. Did you, Kendrick? Did you choose you, or did you choose the West Coast? Because it feels to me like you see New Jerusalem, and it's located in California. That's how it appears.

Speaking of California, it has a little sneaky touch here. Very interesting. This album is very Mexican and Latino. It's a very, very, very Mexican, Latin, Hispanic, Chicano album.

There are a lot of references, and it makes sense. The truth about California, specifically Compton, is that Compton is 71% Black and 30% Latin Hispanic. I'm sorry; it was like that in the 80s.

Now it's 70% Hispanic and 30% Black. Okay? You might go there and think that you're going to see "Boys in the Hood," but you're probably going to see "chicos in los barrios." Okay? It's an interesting thing because I think it's part of this whole idea that New Jerusalem is going to be in California. He's embracing the culture and ensuring that the U.S. is not just a foundational belief.

Black Americans, American descendants of slavery, Black people in general, or members of the diaspora—whatever term you prefer—it’s not just about that. It’s about this culture. I think that’s why he’s paying so much attention and emphasizing its importance, because that reflects the reality of where he comes from. Not for nothing, but those who culturally appropriate often get a pass for doing so, whereas who has been more appropriated than African Americans?

But they completely appropriated the lowrider culture. That was part of Chicano culture, which is Mexican-American, also known as Chicano.

Chicano culture in Los Angeles. They were just like, "That's cool. Let's do that too." It's just funny. Anyway, more on that later.

I think it's interesting that he's not trying to master anything. It seems to me that everything's intentional, right? So everything has to be intentional. I get accused of being a Kendrick Glazer, and I am a Kendrick Glazer in the sense that I am a Beatles Glazer. It's like, yeah, I guess if the White Album came out now, you could come up with a lot of reasons why it sucks. But then I'll just punch you in the face with "Dear Prudence" and say, are you really trying to criticize an album that contains "Dear Prudence"?

Is that your goal? Is "helter skelter" not enough for you? You have to sit there and talk about how Julia is weak sauce? You small-minded prick. So yeah, I glaze.

The greatest rapper alive, I praise him because he is great. You need to stop being afraid of praising people when they're great, all right? I praise Picasso, okay?

That's who I glaze. Some people, some people, Mr. Wayne, deserve to be glazed. And that's just how it is. But that doesn't mean I'm ignorant of the fact that he's kind of weirdly lazy on this project. I was texting Justin Hunt yesterday, and he's like, "What do you mean lazy?"

I mean, some of the sample flips here are not even flips. We're talking like 1990s-era Puff Daddy style—it's just like, I don't know, press play. I did it. That's my sample, you know? And there are times when he forgets to rhyme.

He forgets Kendrick Lamar, the master of the rich rhyme—Mr. Poet, Mr. Everything. He straight-up forgets to rhyme at a certain point in this album. And he's not doing it like that. With a thousand different voices, he says, "Forget a double entendre; I want you to feel." So maybe it's all on purpose. Maybe he's intentionally being lazy to mix it up, so we don't always expect the same thing from him. Because in theory, that's what he did with them. In theory, "DAMN." was like, "Oh, I'm just going to do something kind of poppy after 'To Pimp a Butterfly.'"

And in theory, you could say the same thing here. Oh, he's just going to put out GNX with kind of more bops and your battle bangers, you know? Like, yeah. But, like, "Damn" was not simple. "Damn" won a Pulitzer for a reason.

Damn won everything because it was such a complex work. I mean, you try to do a rhyme breakdown of "DNA," you know, where you just highlight all the different rich rhymes and mosaic rhymes and all that. It's a mess—a mess of color. On this album, he tries to rhyme "Dorsey," and we'll get to it; we'll get to his complete failure of rhyming. But maybe it's on purpose to show, "Hey, do you want me to continue to be critical of Kendrick or say things that might be funny?"

Hey Drake, I know, I know, we've got problems, but listen, come here, come here, come here. He just made an entire album co-produced by Jack Antonoff, okay? Let me tell you, people who get entire albums co-produced by Jack Antonoff: Lana Del Rey, Clairo.

Taylor Swift. Sabrina Carpenter. Did you see any similarities there? Shh, don't. Don't start it up again, but if you're going to start it up again, you might want to point out that he literally went to the pop starlet producer.

I'm not saying Jack Antonoff can't do anything else, and I think he's great. Probably my favorite work of his is the St. Vincent stuff. But, like Drake, he called you "Sexy Red." He said that when he sees you in "Sexy Red," he sees two "B" words.

I'm just saying. I'm just, hey. But of course, Soundwave is on here as well. It's kind of Taylor-like. Kendrick is doing this thing where he's been narrating his life for a long time. Wait, you see this? He's the same age as Taylor, and he's talking about his life. He's discussing the Super Bowl, the battle, and the mural. It's a very Taylor-like album. So, there you go—people who think I glaze greatness. You know I woke up early this morning to do this video.

I woke up at 6 a.m. yesterday just to listen to the album because I can't find the time. I have three daughters in the house, two dogs, a full-time job, and all that stuff. So, I had to wake up at 6 a.m. on a Saturday. I had to wake up at 6 a.m. here. Old commercial for Dunkin' Donuts.

Time to make the donuts. That's what I said. Time to glaze the Kendrick. That's what I said this morning. If you like what you see, if you want to smash the like button, I like that.

Avaa stands for "Awesome Video as Always." I will try to like every single comment that I see. YouTube has made it more difficult for video creators to view comments, and I don't know why they did that, but they did. Alright, so anyway, let's get started; we're 38 minutes in.

Shall we talk about the album? I'm going to open up with the track "Whacked Out Murals," which is the definition of a bitter battle banger. It actually sets up the entire album super well. It begins with Deira Barrera, the Mexican singer.

It is not unimportant that it starts off in Spanish. Like I said, to love California, to love the West Coast, is to love Mexican Americans, is to love Hispanics, is to love Latinos. That's part of the culture. He apparently discovered her when she sang the song in honor of Fernando Valenzuela, who was one of the greatest pitchers in history. He played for the Dodgers, and I think his rookie year was 1981, maybe.

And sorry, I just saw her, but tell Hawk to fly out on my porch. It's wild. And you know, how much more L.A. can you get? And then there's the Dodgers, Fernando Valenzuela, and a Mexican singer, right? And even the mural in question was on a Honduran restaurant called El Sabor.

This mixture is very important and part of the album. These great vocal styles and cool little synth stabs underneath actually remind me a lot of the beginning of "Alright." You know, "All my life I had to fight." And then when the beat actually starts, it's very Houdini.

It reminds me a lot of "Friends." If you've never heard the song "Friends," it's almost like a messed-up version of it, which makes sense because this is a song about not having friends. So maybe that's fitting. If you don't know Houdini, that's okay; it's perfectly fine not to know Houdini, but you should check them out. There's a lot of good stuff there.

All these great vibes—it's like it's the longest song on the album, I believe. And it's just so angry. This is what we wanted, right? When we think about Kendrick this year, we want battles and battles and battles, and bangers and bangers and bangers.

We want them calling out people. We want them attacking. We want that holy wrath. It used to be "f that," but now it's plural "f everybody." But don't forget, it's also where he directly calls out "sweet love."

When he's in his GNX, he's not listening to battle raps. He's not listening to hardcore gangster rap. He's listening to sweet love. Huh, I'm thinking about one of my favorite songs, "Act a Fool" by King T. I pulled out the tape but couldn't find it. Forget it.

And he listens to R&B. I guess there's sort of a history because he ends up listening to Dana Dane. Sorry, I'm just trying to think about the incongruity of somebody sitting there listening. "I'm going to kill everybody." Sweet love.

Okay? Again, very much on the side, on the Vandross side of the Vandross scale. And he's shouting out Lil Wayne and Snoop and all that, and the Super Bowl. It's funny; he seems hurt. He seems hurt that he didn't get congratulated, that only Nas congratulated him.

I'm not big trippin'; I just want what I deserve. Ooh, deserve. Hey, hey, he's setting up the whole album, by the way. He's just goofing around, everybody. He's in a serious album.

He's not doing anything overly serious. He's not working particularly hard; he doesn't have a very specific, concrete idea of what's going to happen. He's just kind of goofing around. Don't you believe it? He's bringing up everything. This song has traces of every other song on the album. Old-school flows. This is not for lyricists.

It's not the sentiments. A double entendre. I probably built the pyramids. Who built the pyramids? Who built the pyramids?

Who built the pyramids? I'll let you look it up. Look it up, everyone. Who built the pyramids? He says to squabble up because he's setting up the next song as well.

He's setting up the whole album with this first track, and he's full-on judgment, judging everybody. He's in that profit mode, right? But also, there's hope. He actually tells you how to behave.

He gives you rules of engagement. So at the same time that he's judging everybody, he is instructing people who might not be wicked yet on how to be better individuals. Keep your feelings out of the way. Don't put anything under your name. Not everyone is going to like you.

And it's this great combination of guidance and holy wrath. You all stay politically correct. I'm going to do what I did. Great line—it's called tautology. I'm going to do what I did, which is a meaningless sentence because it's already happened. He just gets wild; he's just wilding out. "F your hip hop." I watched the party die, right? Because he just described it. What he's talking about, I think, is he saying, "F your hip hop"? I think he's still talking, and almost like what he's in favor of is hip hop itself as a term and an idea being replaced with the culture. I don't know; there's a lot of stuff to unpack here.

And he's just drawing lines, you know? He's going full Anakin. Either you're with me or you're against me. Forget anyone empathetic to the other side; I vow to exterminate him right now.

Make Cat Williams proud. So he's talking about Cat Williams, who obviously just did that interview, which I mentioned on my second channel, I think. And it's just, wow, he keeps going on and on. It really gets us fired up, and you think, okay, good. That's done.

And then, bam! Squabble up, bam, bam, squabble up. Ha ha ha ha ha! And these triangles. Now it's super hard. And then, it's the beginning of the broccoli beat.

It's the broccoli beat from the "Not Like Us" video. It's super hard, super good, and super effing West Coast. If you've never listened to West Coast rap before N.W.A., you might not like it.

You really might not like it. It is really, really electro. If you like Afrika Bambaataa, you'll like it. But if you hear that stuff and you think, "I want..." If you want that Run-D.M.C. punch-you-in-the-mouth vibe until you taste the metallic blood on your tongue, stay away from pre-N.W.A. West Coast rap. Stay away from pre-N.W.A.

Dr. Dre, okay? The World Class Wreckin' Cru. I like that stuff. I don't love it; I like it.

You know, somewhere in my CD collection, I have the early days of Dr. Dre, the World Class Wreckin’ Crew stuff, and Egyptian Lover. That was like the L.A. song—Egyptian Lover. Egyptian Lover, baby. Hey, maybe he built the pyramids!

Uncle Jim, Egyptian Lover, Egyptian Lover baby. Hey, maybe he built the pyramids. Uncle Jam, you know, just all these things that were going on. A lot of this album feels like that. It feels like a love letter to that time in West Coast rap music.

But also, it’s a sample. It’s a sample of when I hear music by Debbie Deb. It’s very slowed down. If you listen to the original, you might think, "Man, low energy on this sample." So, the style of music is called freestyle music.

Would you like to know another thing? The style of music is called freestyle music. Would you like to know another term that this music is known by, besides freestyle music?

Freestyle music? Latin freestyle. I don't know about that. I'm telling you, this album is, to a certain extent, a love letter to the Latin population of America. I use the terms Latin, Hispanic, Chicano, and Mexican.

I use these kinds of things because there are a lot. Do some research; I don't want to do it right now. Explain it right now, but make it helpful, okay?

People who speak Spanish will We'll just, maybe I'll just settle on that. And just these super hard first verses. People are like, "This is just not like 'Us' Part 2." Hey, did you ever expect him to do "Not Like Us" Part 2? It's actually surprising that he did it.

It's shocking to me that this album is filled with "Not Like Us" style tracks. Kendrick is an artist who does not repeat himself. He did not create a second "To Pimp a Butterfly." He did "DAMN." and then he did "Mr. Morale."

And then everything he has to do. To me, this is what I want you to feel. It's as if he knew that people were feeling different from us. When you turn on the radio, you find a second song that also isn't like us. Good luck, buddy.

You're not going to find it. You're not going to find a second song that sounds anything like us. So, he had to do it himself. Don't like it? You don't have to listen.

You're not in the kitchen with your two-year-old listening to this song through the Bluetooth speaker and dancing like crazy? I am. Hey Sky, how's your Cripwalk going? It's going great! No one's ever going to see it except for my two-year-old, but I feel like I'm finally getting it.

I will never, ever do that in public, but it's the music that makes you want to do that little dance, and I'm dancing to it. I don't care. I don't know what "bunk skunk" means. I don't know what "bunk skunk" means, I don't know what "bunk skunk" means, but I know a bitter battle banger when I hear it, and it is just awesome.

It is just amazing. Awesome, awesome verse. And he is always planting little seeds that will grow later. He mentions Black & Mild.

That's going to come back. It's going to come back like ten songs from now, everybody. And then, okay, would you like to hear the most surprising thing I'm going to say? I skipped my favorite song on the album the first time I listened to it.

I heard Luther. I heard the sweet love song the first time I listened to the album. I heard Luther. I heard the sweet love song, and I was like, "Nope."

This isn't for me. Listen for me. Nope. I am not in a position to properly contextualize or enjoy this music, because I've never been over here.

Okay? I'm over here. Alright? But the more I listen to this album, the more I realize this is the hit. Oh, it's so beautiful.

SZA's voice is amazing, and Kendrick shows that you can create an R&B song without relying on auto-tune or traditional singing techniques. How is he doing this? How is he making such a great R&B song without fitting the typical R&B rap persona? How is he achieving it?

How is it that if you ask me right now, Sky, what would you like to see most from Kendrick's next album? I would say an R&B album with SZA. What the hell? Hey, am I shifting? Huh?

Am I headed more in this direction? Is it possible that my taste and palate are expanding through exposure? That's fascinating. I don't like the title. The title is "Luther."

It should not be called "Luther." It should be called "Luther and Cheryl" because this is a duet with Cheryl Lynn and Luther Vandross. But do you know what it actually is? Do you know who actually made this song? It's a question worth considering. Where's Marvin?

It's a Marvin Gaye song. Marvin Gaye and Tammy Terrell recorded the song for the first time. Is this all intentional? What do you think? What do you think?

Marvin Gaye, Tammy Terrell, 60s. Luther Vandross, Cheryl Lynn, 80s. Kendrick, SZA, 20s. It all makes sense. He's putting himself in this line of Luther and Marvin.

Marvin, Luther, Kendrick. "Heart Part 5" is all about Marvin. Marvin, Luther, Kendrick. "Heart Part 5" is all about Marvin Gaye, anyway. Check out my video on that if you haven't seen it.

And it's just beautiful. I love the '80s cowbell sound and the bumping bass. This is the hit from the album; it's a vibe! Do your dance.

Let them watch. She's a fan. He's a flop. They just want a kumbaya now. Just scissors there.

This may be Jack Antonoff. I don't know why this is so good, but the interaction between SZA and Kendrick is fantastic. It's worth mentioning that the sample starts off with a song sung by Luther Vandross, but it ends with Cheryl saying, "If This World Were Mine."

Clean sample, just beautiful. This is a song for GNX in the future, for the future of people who own GNX cars or cars like them. This is what they're going to be listening to instead of Anita Baker. Then we get our first real concrete example of morale music. I felt that it was; I can feel it in the air tonight.

But then my colleagues, my Culture United colleagues, Company Man and Curtis King, discussed this. This is obviously a reference to "One Mic" by Nas. I suggest you watch Justin Hunt's video on the topic; it's great. I'm not the biggest Nas expert, though.

So I'm going to stay away from it, but I'm going to push back on it. I'm going to push back on it. I'm going to push back on it by saying this: "Need" and "deserve" are two different words.

They're two very, very, very, very, very different words. Sorry, I'm recording inside the house now. I hear people walking upstairs. I might have to just do a part two of this video. I don't know.

I have Toby over there. He's about to start making noise, so we’re going to see what’s happening. But "need" and "deserve" are very different verbs. All I need is one mic.

That's what Nas is saying. And this is Kendrick's song about deserving. This is all Mr. Morales' stuff, all about his emotional stability and how he deserves it all. He deserves all the money; he deserves all the power. It's what he works for. He gets up at 6 a.m. like I do; I deserve all these views I got for this video. He works hard, and then his mom deserves it, and his son deserves it. Then it builds up to this crazy, crashing-out verse, which kind of comes out of nowhere, with blood spilling, and it's just paint to me. Tell me why you think you deserve the greatest of all time, motherfucker.

I love this because the phrase "mother effer" does not fit the rhyme. I'm just throwing that out there to emphasize the strength of it. One of my favorite things that Curtis King said is that some rappers are rich but sloppy. I thought that was a good description; they're not dedicated to their craft. Kendrick, on the other hand, is really making a strong case for why he deserves his success.

He doesn't need it; he deserves it. Okay, now Toby's going to come over here and mess up all my notes. Can you just sit? I'm not going to feed you, man. I'm not even halfway through the album, Toby.

Then we get to the next song. Hey now, another bitter battle banger. It's hard and cool, ha ha ha as well. It has a great dance vibe with more West Coast synths and a mustardy style. It feels somewhat like Morale at times. This is the song where he gives up rhyming.

Here's a question: Do these words rhyme? "Mad for Dorsey." I don't care. From like rural Mississippi, and you could not slant that rhyme "math for Dorsey." There's no way to make that rhyme. The next line is "high beams" if I make a public appearance because, go back to Haydn, I'm not too friendly with— and I can't say this next word; it starts with 'n.' The appearance and 'n-word,' these words just don't rhyme.

I don't know how intentional this is. And the chorus is just kind of like, "Hey Dallas, I'm all about my yen." So he's just having fun, being sloppy, being quick, and also talking about Buddhas and yen. It gets really, really West Coast here.

These synthesizers increasingly embody the Egyptian Lover style, with synthesizers everywhere reflecting that vibe. Black Noah, I just strangled a goat. His holy wrath is so great that if he were Noah, he would kill; he would strangle a goat. What does that mean?

If Noah strangled a goat, that would mean there are no more goats on planet Earth. He would have been so mad at this false goat that he ended the line of goats forever. And we get Dodie on here, with her super hard, laconic lyrics. I think, I don't know.

So I've watched some commentary on the album, but not a lot, because I don't want to get it mixed up in my head. However, I did see Justin mention that the way the guest appearances are interlocked is something he really appreciates on this album. He's not just saying, "Okay, you're an L.A. rapper, come in, give me a verse, and I'll choose the best one to include in my song." Instead, he treats it as a more integrated process. It's not just about validating their parking and giving them a $10 gift card to the local coffee shop; it's much more intentional and collaborative. Thank you for coming!

Cool. What was your name? Dodai? That's great. Anyway, awesome.

Yeah, LA. Yeah, West Coast. Great. Good. Good.

Yeah. Just ask Cheryl. Cheryl will validate your parking. It wasn't like that. I got really into that skit.

Like, you know, they’re working together. They’re going back and forth, and then he said, “Tell him Dodie did that.” Throughout the album, which seems thrown together and where he doesn’t even rhyme all the time, he’s actually placing little breadcrumbs that will connect to other themes. Then we get to the song "Reincarnated," which features more morale music.

Now, Ayerra Berrera is back again, and I want to take some more time with this little message about the Mexican element of this album. This song is obviously a sample from "Made," I'm not going to say that word, by Tupac, right? Who produced that song? Johnny J. That's cool.

Johnny J is a producer. There's a fair chance you've never heard of him, as he is somewhat of an obscure figure in the music industry. He was Tupac's primary producer, having worked on about a hundred songs for the artist.

One, zero, zero. Including many of his hits. Okay, not most of his hits, but many of them. This includes this song. Johnny J, born in Chihuahua.

Okay? That's how Mexican he is. Eleven of the twenty-seven tracks on "All Eyez on Me" end with this song: "Hit 'Em Up."

I don't know. Is he thinking about "Hit 'Em Up"? Is he picking a song or sampling a song that's produced by Johnny J? I don't know. Is he thinking about "Hit 'Em Up"?

Is he picking a sample of songs produced by Johnny J? I don't know. There's an unreleased song produced by Johnny J. How does Tupac still have unreleased songs? That's the question.

If you were a kid of the '90s, Tupac released five albums every week for three years after he was born. It's a fact. Look it up, okay? Somehow, there's an unreleased song.

What’s it called? Oh, reincarnation. My only fear of death is reincarnation. I use my last breath to reach the whole nation. So Tupac himself rapped about reincarnation in this song, and his fear was reincarnation.

And I think we're supposed to ponder throughout the entire song. I believe this is an intentional aspect, leading us to feel that Kendrick is the reincarnation of Tupac. If we understand Tupac's message in his previous songs, we can see that this concept of reincarnation is something he feared. Throughout the song, reincarnation seems to be portrayed as a form of punishment from God. Many people are investing a significant amount of time trying to decode the roman à clef — that is, identifying who the characters represent.

Who are they talking about? Who is the guitarist they are referring to? Who is the guitarist in the first verse? It's not John Lee Hooker, whoever it is on Genius. Calm down.

It's not John Lee Hooker. Just calm down, genius. Wonderful website. Super good website. But calm down with that.

You are forcing a square into a round hole, and you need to knock it off, okay? This is where I'm going to align with another one of my Culture United colleagues, Rob Markman's take, which is that it's no one. It's no one and it's everyone. These are archetypes; these are kinds of people.

I was talking, you know, Justin asked me yesterday who I thought the first verse was about. I think it's about Jay-Z. Not that Jay-Z was in Michigan in 1947, but it's a story of an artist who gains success and then is in control of who's the head of R&B. Did you notice that Kendrick never actually mentioned the race of the first person? He mentioned the race of the second person, but not the first person.

You don't have to be reincarnated in the same race. Now, I think thematically it's probably a Black guy for reasons I'll get to in a bit. Still, who gets to be the head of R&B? Who was it, anyway? I don't know, Barry Gordy, right? It could be anybody, any sort of person who achieves a lot of fame and success through their excellence and then ends up becoming a shell of themselves, sort of giving into temptation. Ike Turner.

To me, it's like Ike Turner. It's Al Green. It's Roy Acuff. Someone out there just spat their coffee out when I mentioned Roy Acuff, a great country producer who exploited Hank Williams and helped. Anyway, in the second verse, I don't know, maybe Billie Holiday.

Oh, is it a song about a Black musician who lost their battle with addiction to substances? That one? Okay. It's the last verse that's the most important; it's the self-portrait.

It's the implied Tupac of it all, and it's his description with his father. Did y'all forget about daddy issues? Are we not putting this in the context of daddy issues? It's okay.

We don't have to. We don't have to. We don't even want to wake up, but we should. We should because the Father just glides between being his father and the Father, as in God. Just kicked out of the house, kicked out of heaven.

He's trying to justify himself, saying he's bringing peace between the gangs, but he loves war. He's having an argument with God. He is literally arguing with God on wax for us. Let's rejoice where we are. I rewrote the devil's story just to take our power back.

Carnated. Not reincarnated. The final word is "carnated," as in made flesh. Not made flesh again. Made flesh.

This is a fascinating idea because the whole concept, which is where Isaiah 14 is mentioned, is that the devil was sent to hell. An angel, he was cast down, and Kendrick is trying to recreate this idea of Black people being exiled and punished from heaven, coming down to Earth, and having to navigate life as cursed people forsaken by God, but not evil. They are fighting against the fact that they were forsaken. That's the parody. Hey, I want to be very careful here.

Okay, I am not saying black people are Satan. I'm saying Kendrick is making a fascinating parallel between the fall of Lucifer and the idea of people being born black in America. I'm not the only one to do it. I’m going to call on Rodney Carmichael's amazing essay on Dan one more time, where he talks about the complexity of religion for black Americans, quote, "which begs the question, what does it mean when your liberation tool, the key to your spiritual redemption, is the same tool your oppressors wielded to marginalize you for hundreds of years?" Listen to the album "Thief" next to "Jesus" by Ka, one of the many rap albums that’s probably better than this one that came out this year.

I'm going to continue quoting. Are we damned by our existence in America? He's also a Black guy, by the way. I mean, him and Kendrick, not him and me. Are we damned by our existence in America?

Or are we damned by our reliance on a theology that paints us as a cursed people? Is it the inherent wickedness of America's racialized politics or our weakness as a people that we must overcome? Or is our faith predicated on a false binary that only feels like freedom while leaving us judged by our nation and cursed by our God? That's the stuff that's flying around in here. That's the stuff that's going to happen.

And cursed by our God. That's the stuff that's flying around in here. That's what's going on. I will quote Kendrick Lamar when I say, "I sent you down to earth because you were broken."

Rehabilitation, not psychosis. Reincarnation, reincarnated, reincarnation. We're going to spend a lot of time with this song. I have just scratched the surface of this idea. Okay.

And I'm not comfortable talking about it because it sounds like too much. Like I'm saying Black people are Lucifer. I'm not saying that. I'm saying that's the parallel being drawn in the music, and it's deep as hell.

Also, not for nothing, but in Isaiah 14, it talks about the "morning star," which is what "Lucifer" actually means—like "light," you know? Many people assume that refers to Satan, but actual biblical scholars don't believe that's the case. I'll include a link to it from Didactic Ministries.

I have a great video on the subject on YouTube. Actually, he’s not talking about Satan. Most likely, he’s referring to the leaders of Babylon. What’s that?

So, the oppressors? The actual evil forces that are being discussed are not the angel that was thrown down from Heaven, but rather the leader of the iniquitous state that was used to punish the wicked Israelites? I could go on for hours about this, everyone. I can already hear my family throwing things upstairs. I'm getting nervous.

TV off. I'm telling you, my West Coast dance steps are getting better. I've never followed a tutorial, so I just improvise. I just improvise. Very meaningful opening.

All I ever wanted was a black Grand National. Forget being rational; I'd give them what they asked for. The reluctant prophet Isaiah just talks more and more about the state of hip-hop. A few solid names left, but it's not enough. A few emcees that'll really step up, but it's not enough.

It's just not enough. He has to keep giving more. He references "Alpha & Omega," another rap album that’s probably better than this one, "Revelator" by Elucid. Check it out. It talks a lot about alpha, omega, and the Armageddon.

He talks about cutting off his grandma, and then there's the great interlude. I want to talk to you about true wealth, okay? True wealth costs $5, okay? So, mustard.

Quick Mustard: I am a French professor, so I'm going to give you a quick lesson on mustard. Yellow mustard is great. French's mustard is great. I'm not saying it's not great.

It is. It's great. Spicy brown mustard—it's good. Honey mustard? I don't know, man. Do you need sugar in everything?

But we're talking about mustard, you know. This is what most people think of as fancy mustard because of a company called Grey Poupon. Stone ground mustard is fine, but I don't want to spend a lot of time on that. I want to spend a lot of time on Dijon mustard, okay?

Now, Dijon is an area in Burgundy, France, known for its spicy and flavorful mustard. This is significant because the mustard seeds mentioned in the Bible symbolize faith; God told us to spread our faith like mustard seeds, which are meant to grow and spread everywhere. So that's the meaning behind it.

So, this is a very good mustard. You can get this; it's Canadian, actually. I mean, it's French mustard, but Maille is owned by Unilever, and they make all of their mustard for the American market in Canada. It's fine; it's not great, but it's fine. You can actually go to Trader Joe's, and their French mustard is $5, and it's very good. But I'll put you up on game right here, okay? Edmond Fallot.

You can find this on the internet. This is the best mustard you're going to find, okay? This is real Dijon mustard from Dijon, from Burgundy. I want to give you a piece of advice here, okay? This is Dijon mustard.

This is great. This is kind of like what you would get anywhere else. But there's a very special kind, called Bourgogne, or Burgundy mustard, which is interesting because Dijon is in the region of Burgundy. The key difference is that the primary ingredient here, before vinegar, is wine.

Burgundy wine. This is mustard so good you want to eat it with a spoon. When you taste real Burgundy Dijon mustard, it makes you want to scream. What do you want to scream, everybody? Are we all going to scream "mustard" right now? I'm not, because I hope my two-year-old is still asleep. The funny thing was I was listening to this song, and I also have a two-month-old. I was going to be taking care of her, and we have a little baby seat. I told my wife to put her in there, but I couldn't help it. She asked, "What should I do?" and I said to put her in there, but I still couldn't help it.

So she's like, "What should I do?" I was like, "Oh, put her in the seat, huh?" I called my wife up. Oh, it wasn't a problem; she understood the joke.

She understood that I was joking. She wasn't mad. I put her in the seat. Oh, and what's great is that, you know, this whole song is so good because it's so modular.

It's so fascinating. It starts off with ascending horns, and then, after the break, I mean, ascending strings. Following the break, it's descending horns. It's just so powerful and intense.

And he quotes the second-best Biggie song of all time, "Kickin' the Door." The best song, of course, is "Long Kiss Goodnight." I'm prophetic. I'm prophetic. He talks about being a prophet, but it's still not enough.

Turn the TV off. Gil Scott-Heron's most famous work, "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised," emphasizes the importance of initiating a revolution beyond mass media. You simply cannot achieve it through the media. You have to turn off the TV and connect with people face-to-face, person to person.

You're not going to do it on Facebook. You're not going to do it on Instagram. You're not going to do it on, what's that site? There's a site that people used to send messages and post updates on, whatever that used to be called.

It's like that whole experience, you know, where you're anesthetized. Turn the TV off. Turn the TV off. Start dancing. Start revolutionizing.

Start organizing. Turn the TV off. Stop being anesthetized. Turn the TV off. Turn the TV off.

Mustard! Damn, I love mustard. And then there's an extra hook at the end. Crazy, spooky, crazy, scary, spooky, hilarious. He did this because he wants, he knows; he's been paying attention to Drake.

Do you want to have a hit album? You need to create something that’s memeable and TikTok-worthy. So, mustard is the key. The other elements should be crazy, scary, spooky, and hilarious.

Hey TikTok, how long are you going to take to do the crazy, scary, spooky, hilarious thing? Where you show off the emotions of crazy, scary, spooky, and hilarious? How soon will it be that we have thousands and thousands of videos of people saying, "Shit, get crazy, scary, spooky, hilarious"? Then we get to Dodger Blue. I'm calling that a sweet love song.

Because it's a love song to Los Angeles, and it's made in that Montel Jordan style—like, you know, 90s R&B. It's just about his love for the city and all these people, like Siete and Wally the Sensei. I guess I know Roddy Ricch a little bit. There are guest appearances, you know? It's like, remember "Blackbird"?

The Beyoncé cover of the Beatles song that was on the White Album? The one that all of you hated and told me I was glazing over? When I was doing this channel back in 1968, I told you the White Album was a masterpiece, and all of you just came at me with "Revolution No."

9. You know, I said, you're just glazing over The Beatles. You really need to listen to The Byrds. They're actually way better. And I told you, listen, The Byrds are great, but what am I supposed to do?

They're The Beatles, jackass. "Blackbird" is on this album, and so is "Rocky Raccoon." Anyway, remember when Beyoncé did that? Remember what she did? She got a bunch of young Black country stars to sing along.

That's what Kendrick is doing here too. He's bringing people along. You can hear my two-year-old running over there. It's okay; my family supports me.

Can you please say thank you to my family in the comments along with this? And if you're watching this in the live premiere, please don't put it in the comment section. Go on there and say thank you to Professor Skye's family for putting up with this on a Sunday morning. Real L.A. stuff. Don't say you hate L.A. when you haven't traveled past the 10.

Did you know that in Southern California, they refer to highways with the definite article "the," while in the rest of California, they do not? For example, if you take Highway 5 in the Bay Area all the way down to Los Angeles, you transition from Route 5 to "the 5." There's like an imaginary line. When referring to Highway 10, if you say "take Highway 10," people will look at you like you're odd; you have to say "the 10."

Then we get to the song "Peekaboo." It features a crazy, out-of-tune guitar line that samples Little Beaver's "Give Me a Helping Hand." It's a cool, weird sample that comes out of nowhere, but I figured it out, everybody. This whole album's last song is called "Dodger Blue," right?

It's all about LA pride. Little Beaver was also... I'm goofing right now. I'm not trying to be a Google snooper, but it's actually really interesting because Little Beaver was the nickname of Marcel Dionne, who was an excellent hockey player for the Los Angeles Kings—one of their few great players in the 70s and 80s. So I think that's what this is.

It's actually pretty interesting. Hard into a West Coast synth beat. What are they talking about? They're talking about nothing. What are they talking about?

Talking about nothing. This is nothing. This is nothing. This is nothing. He's goofing around.

He's just goofing around. He's talking loudly and saying nothing himself. It's a super lazy chorus. But this is my two-year-old's favorite song because she loves peekaboo. Peekaboo?

Do I read this song? Do I read this book to my two-year-old? Jigga what? I do it like that. Pika who?

Pika what? Pika. Ready? Moo. Are you ready?

Pika. Boo. Are you ready? Pika. Zoo.

Huh? Pika. What do you have on this one, everybody? Pikachu. And then the best one, Pikachu.

Anyways, it's fun. It's simple. It's a straightforward idea. And it's super interlaced with "Az Chike"? Hey, hey, hey!

Hey, hey, hey! I'd like to quote my colleague once again. I don't know if we're friends; it feels like we are, but we've never actually met in real life.

So I'll just say colleague for now, Justin Hunt. This is an album to listen to in your car. Just blast it in your car. It doesn't matter if it's simple or if it has a lazy chorus.

It doesn't matter; all this is just to bang in your trunks. Then we get to the heart part six. Hey, Toby, do not lick the dog bed! So Bo releases material, and Toby licks it off the dog bed, and it is just the most disgusting thing.

I don't want you to have to even think about it on this nice Sunday afternoon. Listen, when this album came out, I was doing a live premiere, okay? Poor Sugar Pit. It's a great album. It received a good review.

All the comments are "Sky Kendrick drop, Sky Kendrick drop." You know who else got overlooked in this whole thing? It was Justin Hunt and me. We just made a whole video about who had a better year: Kendrick Lamar or Sky.

He released it; Justin released it just half an hour before this album dropped. So please, go and watch that video. Here I am predicting the future. We recorded this seven days ago, okay? Seven days ago we recorded this.

And this is what I said back then: "You know, that might change if Kendrick is recording. Yeah, I don’t think he’s dropping anything yet."

Huh? Huh? I called it, sort of. Anyway, why am I talking about that?

Because I think that was a great video, I believe you should really watch it. The thing that Justin and I really emphasized is that the Kendrick versus T.D.E. debate is intentionally a silly argument. It doesn't actually make sense because they are friends.

It is a love letter to TDE, an oral history of TDE. Oh my God! This song is the biggest takedown of Drake that has ever existed. Never has Drake been outdone harder than he was on this song.

He thought he had the upper hand by doing "The Heart Part 6," that song, which is the reason this channel has 100,000 subscribers. Thank you, Drake. OVO forever. Don’t clip that. But like... Do you think Kendrick could do a whole song where he's attacking Drake and saying, "How dare you take my thing"?

No, his heart is with other people. His heart is for the connections he's made, for the history, for the culture— all these details. Jack in the Box and Pepsi. By the way, Jack in the Box doesn't sell Pepsi; they have a Coke license.

I don't know. There may be some historical inaccuracies. Perhaps he just didn't want people to think he was referring to cocaine. I'm not sure. He mentioned that he was inspired by Ab-Soul, who probably released a better album than Kendrick did this year.

And then J-Rock was his contemporary. They all inspired Schoolboy Q, who definitely released a better album than Kendrick this year. You know, this whole idea of building and having an organic beginning, starting from nothing, and experiencing joy, ambition, and growth—all these connections that Drake doesn't have. He never has to say his name; he never has to say it.

He never has to talk about the King of Babylon because the King of Babylon doesn't even understand the joys of Israel. Okay? Does anyone understand how great it is to be in contact with Yahweh? Okay? A whole verse is dedicated to David.

A whole... You mean the guy who... Wait, you know, actually... If you look it up, Dave Free actually slept with Whitney. Shut up. Shut up. Dave Free. They're friends.

They hang out together. They work together. Do you think you're taking a little shot at me? Is that going to affect my friendship with Dave Free? The whole verse is about Punch, who played his Phil Jackson, all about borrowing clothes from Soundwave.

Let's go back to The Beatles. Can you imagine if The Beatles wrote songs about each other, as kind after their breakup, as this song is to TDE? Kendrick Lamar is the worst person to have against you. He will come after you, and he will cut you to pieces with holy wrath.

What does he do when he breaks up with his label? Does he do what Eazy-E did? I mean, what N.W.A. did? What Eazy-E did? Do they go after each other and attack each other's labels?

Does Snoop Dogg now own Death Row? He was actually angry at Death Row and would make fun of them and attack them. That's what you do when you leave labels: "I'm me, and I'm better, and you suck." Mr. Holy Wrath, Mr. "I'm Me Against Everybody," Mr. "I'm the Best," and "Forget the Big Three" has now written an entire love song to people with whom he is now in direct competition.

Top Dog and P.G. Lange are in direct competition, but he understands that he does not want to destroy them because they are not wicked. They are the culture. They are part of New Jerusalem. Do you understand?

Isn't it beautiful? Isn't it beautiful that this man, whom nobody fights harder than and nobody will punch harder? He's not bitter. He's not bitter. It's all love.

And he explains his motivation, yearning for independence. He takes responsibility for the fact that "Black Hippie" didn't work. It's just beautiful. It's the opposite of beef. When you fight your enemies, fight them hard.

When you're not fighting, your enemies do not fight. And that's how the song ends. To all my young ones, let me be the demonstration of how to conduct differences with healthy conversation. If that's your family, then handle it as such. Don't let social media gas you up or let your emotions be your crutch.

Pick up the phone and break the silence before the history is lost. A handshake is good when you have a heart-to-heart. Here’s how to address differences with a healthy conversation. Okay? In 2024, let’s focus on uplifting one another rather than tearing each other down.

He nuked it from orbit. Okay, if Drake were a planet, he would have gone down, killed all the inhabitants, nuked it from orbit, and then salted the land so that nothing could grow there. And here he is lecturing us on how to handle differences. Because this isn't war; this is about differences. Then we get to GNX, featuring Peso, hitting a G3, with Young Threat, over a simple piano beat—kind of rough, almost like a Paul Revere.

Actually, you know what this reminds me of? This reminds me of a beat off of *Chronic 2001*. It's similar to one of the filler songs, because *Chronic 2001* is filled with great hits. But there are also some random tracks featuring Hitman. Man, what happened to Hitman?

What's up with Dr. Dre having great rappers on his albums and then they just seem to disappear? Anyway, feel free to tell me in the comments what happened because he was the star of that album. Also, you know, tell him Kendrick did it like, wow. I think he's going for another meme thing here. He sounds like Wario to me.

It's a posse cut for the West Coast, and Peso matches the beat really well. I'm not going to front. I thought, okay, I first listened to this album in the car driving home from work, and I was scrambling. This was the first song I listened to off the album because I didn't know the order. I thought it was 50 Cent. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. In the end, I'm just some middle-aged white guy. I thought he hit a "G" was 50 Cent on the first listen. I mean, not by the end of the verse where he's talking about Rosecrans, but he talked about going to Scores. He's talking about going to the strip club in New York, so I'm like, you know, but when he's talking about Rosecrans. But in the very beginning, I was like, wow. But hey, am I the only one?

There's a great verse, though. He ties together Taliban, Iraq, and Hussein. I'm tripping, and I'm loving it. I really like "Young Thread" at the end, and then the album concludes with the most Mr. Morale stuff, which is "Gloria." I like this because it feels like a combination of "Gloria" and sweet love songs; the soundscape is reminiscent of very sweet R&B vibes. When you listen to it the first time, you might think it's about his complicated relationship with Whitney, but, of course, it's actually about his pen.

And I'm going to talk about that. By the way, if you are not an English speaker, I apologize for this song, because it has a punchline, but his accent is so thick that you might not understand what he's talking about. He says, "Never know I'm a b****, because my b**** is my pen." If I didn't speak English as my first language, I'd be like, "What is my pin? What is my pin?"

Is my "pin" another word for a woman? My "pin." My "bitch" is my "pin." Anyway, just putting that out there.

Is "mpyn" another word for woman? Mpyn. My girl is mpyn. Anyway, just putting that out there. And again, Rob Markman's quick reaction — that was neither a podcast nor a review — points out how it's a lot like the song by Common, "I Used to Love H.E.R.," and it's actually about hip-hop. It's kind of a Fight Club moment here.

But I want to take a second to really dive into this because this is weird. He says he doesn't want to use double entendres, but the complexity of the relationship he's describing—based on what we know publicly about his relationship with Whitney—totally works with his relationship with her, the mother of his child. So it completely makes sense that it could be about either. Okay?

But it really is this question of forever and glory. Why is it called glory? Because it's glory that he's looking for. "Glory" is a confusing word because it is what you give to God, but it's also what you seek from man. Okay?

It's a complicated thing. Glory is fame. It's the opposite of giving glory to God. When you are trying to seek glory for yourself, to show that you are worthy of merit, you are doing so despite the fact that you should be giving all glory to God. But he's not trying to give all glory to God.

He is trying to get glory for himself. Not fame, not money. He's trying to achieve glory through his pen.

It starts off, again, the whole album has the voice, the Mexican voice throughout. Barrera mentioned Anita, and you talked about Anita Baker tying together Anita Baker from the first song. The whole album is actually way more thought out than we think, and don't you dare believe it's just some simple thing thrown out there, okay? Riding in my GNX. It's amazing because his relationship to ambition and his art is toxic. He points out that other people wanted glory, wanted artistic greatness, but they are preoccupied playing John Madden and engaging in nonsense.

I've said this for a long time: women are going to be the greatest musicians because video games are so immersive. Young men these days find it hard to dedicate eight hours to playing music like they do with video games. No one seems to want to learn to play guitar or master their craft, but that’s the reality.

I mean, unless video games are marketed more effectively, they will continue to be marketed primarily to a male audience. It's not that girls and women don't play video games; it's just that they do so at a lower rate, largely due to marketing strategies. Take Nintendo, for example—that's how they approached their marketing. It's a reflection of patriarchy, not nature. Still, young women are growing up looking up to Billie Eilish and Taylor Swift and learning how to play music, while young men are playing Fortnite.

Whatever, that's fine. But that's what it is, you know? He didn't do that. He sacrificed everything for glory. He's sacrificing his relationships. And SZA is so good.

I cannot believe how good SZA is. I loved her album last year, but I think she just keeps getting better. Her delivery, her phrasing—scared of forever, because that's the whole question. It's about forever. You want glory so you can live forever.

And his anger about fame leads him to reject it, along with his art. He expresses his frustration, saying "F you," and gets into an argument. The tension escalates, especially with the third, heartfelt verse filled with goofy puns about a pen. Your favorite movie, isn’t it? "The Notebook." It's a favorite for many women because Ryan Gosling is attractive, and it's a well-written story.

And then, you know, get them all booked. But I love it. You either heal or kill people. That's what it is. That's what artistic ambition can do.

It can heal, or it can kill. Chapter after chapter, all of these margins—both are true. Clever. It's about gaining this power, about attaining this glory. It's about his relationship with his own ambition.

And I'm just going to say, if you're out there and you're looking up to this, just so you know, it's kind of a losing battle because, really, happiness would probably come if he could figure out how to have the most important thing in his life be his human relationships and not his desire to be the best or to have glory. But anyway, that's my analysis: the car, the profit, the rapper. I have some Patreon shoutouts to give. I offer this on my Patreon. These are my patrons.

They help me buy music, and I'm probably going to buy this if I can. Try not to look. I probably have sweaty armpits right now. I have some new ones here.

So I'm just going to start reading out these names and see if you can count how many there are. Because this is the most people have ever asked for shout-outs at the end of the video. Harlan T, Ron Vondon, Spicy Oreos, BSP, Paris Angelo, Dan Russo, Maya Weberin, Rusty Techie, AJ, Loves Chicago Hot Dogs, Eric from Salem, Absentia, Robert M., David Wenzel, shout-out for Maxi, Jay Fulker, stepdad, who used to drive him around in a GNX, that's pretty cool, Sean McClagg, Rippling Sun, maybe Nick Hill, Chris Marin, Mercury, Bonnie Bro, Jeff Capps, Iris Monroe, Landon, Lucas Felton, Diorosita Negrita, who suggested Grey Poupon, but I'm not doing Grey Poupon.

Grey Poupon, that's from Bisco. Maybe we're talking about Edward Fallot, okay? Look it up. Golden Kuma, Quentin, Tatsumaki, Nuppt, Tony, Carpet Diem, Logan Henry, Jonas Bullcastle, Jack Dyson, Zach, Andrew Thompson, Sammy Baudelaire, and Toby Repellent.

Toby Repellent. Hunter Tice, Al Gore Rhythm, George Calvin, who used to drive around, does drive around in an '87 Cressida wagon. Josephus, Nolan002, Zane Kordich, and Arvin Mendoza. This might be my longest video ever. I'll try to get it under one hour and thirty minutes.

I'm going to go get my kids, and I'm excited! Tell me what you thought of the album. Smash like, hit the bell, and subscribe. Also, hey, why is Darth Vader back there? Let me know in the comments!

There's the camera.