10. Pusha T
At the weird G.O.O.D. Music Opening Night thing in Chicago, King Push did every record from this album in quick succession — minus the robe he wore on tour — to minimal ‘Fuck Drake’ chants. The funniest thing I noticed between my inner backpacker possessing me to yell and shake the homie Caleb by the shoulder every time we hit the bars together: “If You Know You Know” dropped and some of these fools tried to mosh to it. This wasn’t that: The MAGA Ye beats unwind and unfurl, the bass doesn’t signal the jump response. Push is the focus, as incisive and spiteful as ever. I don’t know how many (breathe in) bar-driven rappers can make folks congregate like this without pivoting to radio over five times, and I’m thankful for that. I’m tired of the Solo Push slander; I think Mr. Thornton was, too. And, contrary to popular belief, I can say that while reminding the timeline that this shit is Still Not a Classic.