The 25 Best Hip-Hop Songs of 2025

GELO, AKA former basketball player LiAngelo Ball, set off 2025 with “Tweaker,” which exemplified the power of a good hook — and a famous bloodline. The song feels like a relic of a late ‘90s, early 2000s sweet spot, with a bouncy beat and a Nellyesque “whoa” refrain that feels like it, in another timeline, it would’ve received major burn on BET’s Cita’s World. Intentional or not, “Tweaker” unlocked a new path for paying hip-hop homage. Yes, rappers take classic loops all the time, but the beats in their entirety don’t often sound like a capsule of a bygone era unless they’re honoring the well-explored ‘80s or golden era “boom-bap” archetypes. “Tweaker” made us rethink the distinction between “dated” and dope, which is why he rode the momentum into a reported $8 million Def Jam deal. — A.G.

To many rap fans forged in the blog era, Wale’s cultural footprint is as well known as the admitted challenges he confronts on “Mirroronnabenz.” With a backdrop where Afrobeat meets hip-hop soul, feeling both characteristic of and evolutionary for the Nigerian-American rapper, “Mirroronnabenz” finds Wale and producer BNYX (of the prolific Working on Dying collective) contemplating what the rapper has endured and where he’s going. “Those years of paranoia probably took a toll/But depression gets old, mirror it ain’t only you,” he raps, accountably. Ahead of his first album in four years, Everything Is a Lot, it revealed Wale’s refreshed and reaffirmed state of mind. – M.C. 

While Atlanta rappers Pluto, YK Niece, Bunna B and Bankroll Ni seemed like the catalyst for the resurgence of the city’s futuristic sound – exuberant party anthems that sounded like a block party on Mars, most popular between late aughts and early 2010s – Metro Boomin cooked up a full soundtrack to the comeback with his A Futuristic Summa mixtape. With roughly a decade on those young women and a decorated career in southern hip-hop, he pulled out all the stops, especially on “They Wanna Have Fun,” with era-makers Travis Porter, Young Dro, and Gucci Mane rapping like times hadn’t changed at all. Dro goes especially hard, honoring the posse cut with “I be keepin’ it P, I’ma give her the D, and when Travy through with her, they give her to me.”  – M.C. 

On “L.O.A.T,” Veeze leans fully into the off-kilter charisma that’s made him one of rap’s most quietly influential voices. Built around a skeletal beat and his unmistakably deadpan delivery, the Detroit rapper’s quasi-self deprecating, and dry humor belies the rap perfectionist beneath the surface. “L.O.A.T” thrives on restraint, with Veeze delivering bars that feel casually quotable, capturing why his approach has become a blueprint for a new wave of rappers who value feel, timing, and personality over flash. — R.S.

In 2025, Latto not only lured internet-cryptid Playboi Carti out of hiding for a guest verse but squashed her long-simmering beef with Ice Spice in the most viral manner imaginable: a high-camp, twerk-heavy wrestling match. But the easygoing single “Somebody” is the crown jewel in the Atlanta rapper’s year. Riding waves of windblown ‘90s synth lines, Latto plays her dream-girl role so cool she earns the sly Aaliyah interpolations on the hook. It’s her best play at the pop-R&B crown yet. —C.P.

“GBP” pairs Central Cee with 21 Savage for a transatlantic flex that plays to both artists’ strengths. Built on a spare, ominous beat, the track leans into icy minimalism and a sonic structure that gives each rapper just enough space to let their cadence breathe. Central Cee sounds especially comfortable, delivering sharp, understated bars with the cool detachment that’s become his signature, while 21 Savage slides in with deadpan menace and surgical timing. The song is as good a cross-continental crossover as we saw in 2025. — R.S.

“I had a year full of tour dates, last I checked,” begins Saba. “It felt like I heard God say, ‘I’m not impressed.’” The highlight from his Chicago-themed collaboration, From the Private Collection of Saba and No ID, serves as a reminder to remember that jewels, cars, and millions of streams don’t matter if one can’t support and nurture his community.  It also confirms his position as an exemplar of a regional tradition for inquisitive lyricists that stretches from Common to Chance the Rapper and Noname. —M.R.

Hanumankind’s 2024 video “Big Dawgs” turned the live-wire Indian rapper into an instant action star, placing him in the center of a swarm of death-defying stunts — and racking up a few hundred million YouTube views in the process. For “Run It Up,” he goes even bigger, employing a cast of dozens for a martial-arts brawl. The beat keeps pace, full of Chenda drums growing more manic by the second; the raspy rapper stands square in the middle of the chaos, fighting against the beat and winning. —Clayton Purdom

Rob49’s absurdist classic “WTHelly,” in which he affixes all kinds of words to the phrase “what the hell,” will remain lodged in the subconscious of millions of people around the world. The perfectly catchy track from the rising New Orleans rapper strikes a balance of humor and song craft to land on something undeniable. Bonus points for giving the lexicon a new phrase “What the helly?” — which, oddly enough, has been an excellent go-to response for much of what’s been going on this year. —J.I.

In 1997, Jay-Z used a song called “Imaginary Players” to cement his place as the wittiest dude in New York. Nearly 30 years later, Cardi B had no choice but to do it again with this spot-on remake. She’s got hilariously crude punchlines for days (“Gloryhole — bitches don’t know who they fuckin’ with”), but her cruelest cuts are the most matter-of-fact: “My flop and your flop is not the same/If you did my numbers, y’all would pop champagne/If I did your numbers, I would hop out a plane.” Please, Cardi, don’t hurt ‘em! —S.V.L.

Thank God Kendrick Lamar’s epic Pop Out last summer introduced us to Cuzzos, five-woman rap crew out of Los Angeles that turn the type of quintessential, West Coast bounce Lamar paid homage to all over GNX into a playground of their own making. The best thing about the friend-group turned girl-group is that they don’t take themselves too seriously, with “Moesha” being a prime example. Likening themselves to the teen sitcom character Brandy played in the 1990s – a girl who kept a cute guy on her side – the hook hilariously goes: “Call me miss niggas.” The girls all have a sense of humor about them, but South Central native Teaawhy especially slides when she raps “Niggas still ain’t seen the cat but got me tatted on his chest / All my niggas rep my name, it’s a gang, bang the set.”   – M.C.

On “Rich Sinners,” Lil Yachty and “6-7” architect Skrilla meet over a moody, minimalist beat that favors atmosphere over punchlines, Yachty slides into his most restrained mode, letting weary reflections on money, faith, and temptation do the heavy lifting. Skrilla complements him with a sharper edge, grounding the track in street-level detail and moral ambiguity. Together, they frame wealth less as a victory lap than a spiritual dilemma, wrestling with guilt, ambition, and survival in the same breath. It’s a somber, grown-up collaboration that lingers with repeat listens. — R.S.

Havoc told us that he had been chasing Nas down for years to jump on this beat. The timing was perfect, as “Pour the Henny” became a jewel of Mobb Deep’s Infinite, showcasing the Queensbridge stalwarts on one of their last rides as a trio. Over an angelic beat, Prodigy gives a reflective verse, rapping, “I lived a full life, don’t cry for me.” Then, Nas follows up with another stellar Legend Has It… appearance. It’s the best farewell the iconic rap alliance could have given us. —A.G.

We will probably be re-litigating Drake versus Kendrick Lamar well into the next century. Thankfully for Drake, not everyone is taking it so seriously. Plenty of us just want to have fun in the club to some hits, and “Nokia” — from Drake and PartyNextDoor’s Some Sexy Songs 4 U — is precisely that. With a vibrant funk-infused beat, the earworm of a track lends itself to the lightheartedness of a good function, where serious conversations — Drake’s weak spot right now — are put on pause. —J.I.

Meek Mill gets such a bad rap for his social media presence that sometimes we forget we know him at all because he’s a generational talent. He reminded us on the Grammy-nominated “Proud of Me,” where he and fellow Philly artist Fridayyy gave doleful eulogies to their deceased fathers. Fridayy starts the track mourning his father with an earworm cadence that elucidates his pain. Then, Meek delivers a verse of the year contender on the track, at his best when he’s being reflective and rhyming with the fury that his traumatic upbringing embroiled: “She was livin’ PHA, now can’t nobody kick us out / Scared to show up to your grave ’cause I might try to dig you out.” As both men chronicle in their music, the belly of the beast has taken too many people; we should consider ourselves lucky that Meek and Fridayy are around to chronicle the peril. — A.G.

A classic Wu Tang ruckus, styled as a legal thriller: Ghost and Rae play defendants in a courtroom drama, facing down a thicket of accusations, while their Wu brethren and some younger stalwarts get in on the drama. The MCs ping-pong bars back and forth as “attorneys” address the court and toss out a cavalcade of details — narcotic-sniffing dogs, white powder hidden in luggage — worthy of the finest Wu joints. —Christian Hoard

Twenty-one year old hairdresser-turned-rapper Pluto was originally hitting the studio with her friends for fun, the way you might kick it at a bowling alley. What came out of a slate of those hangs, “Whim Whammie,”  went on to be one of the defining rap songs of the summer. A song as silly as it sounds, it playfully reimagines 2012’s “Wham Bam,” produced by futuristic era beatsmith Zaytoven. Zay happily cleared the sample, telling Pluto, “You done turned me up again.” Part of the appeal of “Whim Whamiee” lay in its contagious ad-libs like “We deep as fuck, ho!” “Lululemon!” and “I’m talmbout innit!” – which Pluto leaned on YK Niece for. With Pluto’s encouragement (and pen) YK Niece recorded a verse too, which went on to be a fan favorite. – M.C. 

East Oakland, California rapper-producer Overkast has known Charlotte, North Carolina native Mavi since they were teenagers dabbling in hip-hop over Kik groupchats, Andre Gee reported this year. And when it came to, While The Iron Is Hot, Ovrkast’s May mixtape, he knew he wanted Mavi on it. The self-titled “Mavkast!” was a basically a buzzer-beater as one of the last songs finalized for it, and thank goodness. The pair’s subtle chemistry is undeniable and amps each other up with each verse. “Don’t get me started, I am a genius/Me and Omavi like Jay with the Yeezus,” Ovrkast raps – “’Fore he went crazy.” — M.C.

As a budding rap powerhouse, this was one of Monaleo’s best years yet. Yes of course, there was her viral, all-pink wedding with longtime partner Stunna 4 Vegas that had her corner of the internet believing in love again. But professionally, Leo landed in a pocket all her own with excellent, animated verses on songs like “Move” with Mellow Bucks, “First” with Ken the Man, her own “We On Dat,” “Sexy Soulaan,” and the crown jewel of her recent discography, “Putting Ya Dine.” She’s equal parts outgoing and unbothered, riding Atlanta producer’s Truebeatzz hard-hitting instrumental with her Houston cool and accent – “dine,” of course, means “down” and not “to eat” – though she absolutely does here.   – M.C. 

British Nigerian artist Obongjayar’s second album, Paradise Now, was inspired by David Bowie and Prince. “There’s not too much fat,” he told Rolling Stone of their work. “It’s so fine and understandable and also very unique.” “Talk Olympics” with Little Simz is great at this. The frenzied percussion elicits the commotion of an African market but mirrors the similarly incessant chatter that can spill from the internet into real life. Obongjayar plays with high life, electro-pop, all kinds of rock, and a touch of rap. —M.C. 

Tri-state brethren B Jack$ and Zeddy Will linked up for “Get Jiggy,” a feel-good song of the summer contender. The two take turns playfully rhyming about a lit night, with Jack$ rapping, “Off honey like Winnie, we runnin’ the city,” and Zeddy Will affirming, “I’ma still be that nigga by 50.” They go off over a gleaming-house drill fusion that takes us back to the future, nodding to hip-hop’s longstanding relationship with house music over a composition that sounds emphatically now. Both artists’ deliberate cadences fit the pounding percussion, true to the house scene’s penchant for chants and mantra-like choruses. There’s so much music history in conversation with each other on “Get Jiggy,” and it all plays out on the dance floor when it’s 1 am and time to “One, two, step in the box.” — A.G.

The first single from Jim Legxacy’s mixtape Black British Music samples George Smallwood’s “I Love My Father” and has a video where Legxacy ruminates on his absent dad. Clocking in at just under 90 seconds, the track fills an entire universe, the kind of tight narrative structure they teach in writing programs. “She said she grew up all alone, had no father,” he raps, conjuring the sample’s emotional frequency for the last word. “She’s independent, wanna spend my monеy on her/She said I shouldn’t bother.” —J.I.

In May, NBA YoungBoy dropped “Shot Callin,” part of his comeback campaign after he spent most of 2024 in prison on gun charges. Channeling the pent-up energy of the 11 months YoungBoy spent behind bars, the track hits you like a gut punch with its explosive trap drums and YoungBoy’s melodic and menacing delivery. It soared almost immediately on streaming platforms and marked a triumphant return to the spotlight, kicking off one of the rapper’s most successful years to date. On social media, “Shot Callin” became a soundtrack for athletes, content creators, and everyone in between. It was the sound of NBA YoungBoy reclaiming his place in the rap game — and became the statement song of 2025. —J.I.

Clipse’s appreciation for lyricism and depth coalesce on “Birds Don’t Sing,” from their triumphant album Let God Sort Em Out, where they mourn the back-to-back deaths of their parents. Over solemn, minimal production, Pusha T and Malice trade verses that feel less like their typical rap bravado and more like private eulogies, reflecting on grief, faith, and the quiet weight of legacy. The song strips Clipse down to their emotional core, replacing icy coke-raps with vulnerability and restraint. It’s a reminder that their greatest strength has always been honesty, even in the face of tragedy. — J.I.

Many commentators viewed Playboi Carti’s long-awaited new album, MUSIC, as the ultimate triumph of rage and meme-fueled styles in mainstream hip-hop. But his chart-topping album also has unexpected layers: “Like Weezy” scrambles “Bend Over,” a 2010 mixtape cut by onetime baby-faced duo Rich Kidz, into a chirpy and hypnotic bop for a new viral age. “Spit on a bitch like Pac,” chants Carti in reference to a notorious 1994 face-off between 2Pac and courthouse reporters. —M.R.