GNX by Kendrick Lamar: Analysis and Review
Hot off a beef victory, Kendrick drops his most entertaining album yet—unlike many other albums, his fun isn't coming at the cost of quality
Intro
The GNX was a limited-edition model released by Buick in 1987—Kendrick Lamar’s birth year. The name “GNX” is short for “Grand National Experimental,” a special version of the Buick Grand National retrofitted by McLaren with a far more powerful motor. The GNX is the final car in a dying lineage, the last vehicle ever produced in General Motors’s old factory—a final reminder of the lost beauty of a golden age.
Aside from the obvious association of the vehicle being displayed on the album’s cover art, “Grand National Experimental” also easily describes Kendrick Lamar’s musical career, representing an artist daring enough to delve into deep lyricism, emotional storytelling, and creative production like jazz rap while remaining a mainstream presence. In his endeavors, he’s truly been able to encapsulate the title of “Grand National,” bringing his avant-garde leanings into the modern rap zeitgeist.
He makes this impact very clear on his new project: for a man with a whole track about the death destined for those who commit the sin of pride, the tone of his lyricism on “GNX” is exceedingly brazen. That’s not without reason, either—this album is a clear product of the Drake beef, which blew up the hip-hop game and is mentioned to no end on its twelve tracks.
A little over two months after Kendrick claimed he would “watch the party die,” he comes through with this bold statement about—and sometimes against—the rap industry. It combines rightful arrogance with introspection about Kendrick’s art and role in influencing popular culture. I like to think of it as a spiritual sequel to Mr. Morale, which had similar themes—those ideas, though, were unfortunately overshadowed by that album’s overarching narrative about generational curses.
Musically, the album is an expression of its own messaging too. It’s stocked full of classic West Coast beats and is more trap-influenced than any of his other works. Capitalizing on the popularity of “Not Like Us”, Kendrick again teams up with Mustard and raps over instrumentals reminiscent of his May 2024 hit. The fun angle he captures doesn’t take away from the much slower and more introspective songs, though—those album entries are just as strong as their more fast-paced counterparts.
With that said, let’s begin our deep dive into Kendrick’s victory lap album about his career, the obligations he feels, and his ties to his culture and hometown.
Quick aside before we get started: I still think there’s another album coming. Most Kendrick albums are cinematic masterpieces that have an overarching storyline throughout and one interrelated element between the tracks that connects them all (the voicemails in GKMC and the poem in TPAB). Also, this album isn’t particularly stylized like another source of media like his other albums have been (GKMC—short film, DAMN.—magazine).
Further, this album is so clearly influenced by recent developments like his Super Bowl announcement and most obviously the Drake beef that it’s evident this isn’t what he’s been working on since Mr. Morale dropped in 2022. Instead, it’s a quick hors d'oeuvre we can consume before he (hopefully) drops his next project very soon!
The Rap Game and Industry Politics
In his 2022 track “Mirror,” the closing offering of Mr. Morale and the Big Steppers, Kendrick repeats an affirmation of sorts:
I choose me, I’m sorry
His chant follows a continual discussion in the rest of the album surrounding his obligations in music as the perceived “king” of hip-hop (“Heavy is the head that chose to wear the crown”). “Mirror” closed that discourse by making it very clear that Kendrick won’t pander to anyone—his first obligation is to himself.
“wacced out murals” picks up right where “Mirror” left off. Kendrick Lamar’s mural in Compton was vandalized earlier this year. Despite essentially being the community’s representation on the world stage, it’s clear that something in his life—whether his discography, personal feuds, or inactivity—has caused a rift with some residents that have developed a vendetta against him.
Kendrick directly addresses this disconnect on the album’s first track, “wacced out murals.” If you’re wondering, I still haven’t exactly figured out the point of spelling whacked like “wacced,” but the absence of a “K” anywhere in that word seems to imply it is a statement about his uncertain place in hip-hop culture.
Using his defaced mural as an extended metaphor for his rap disconnect, Kendrick continues with bar after bar about recent events in the industry, how he interacts with its many pressures, and why he conducts himself the way he does.
I’m glad this project finally allowed me to put my year of dedication to the Spanish language (5 on AP Spanish!) to use, the Spanish samples at the beginning and in the middle translate roughly to:
Siento aquí tu presencia (I feel your presence here)
La noche de anoche (The night of last night)
Y nos ponemos a llorar (And we begin to cry)
Que refleja en tu mirada (What reflects in your sight)
La noche, tú y yo (The night, you and I)
“I feel your presence here” is a perfectly brash way to begin the album. Kendrick has already made his impact known—now, he just must reckon with his new role at the top of the game. That’s very obvious in this song’s second verse, where he specifically talks about other rappers and how he’s treated like an illegitimate king:
Used to bump Tha Carter III, I held my Rollie chain proud
Irony, I think my hard work let Lil Wayne down
Whatever, though, call me crazy, everybody questionable
Turn me to an eskimo, I drew the line and decimals
Snoop posted "Taylor Made," I prayed it was the edibles
I couldn't believe it, it was only right for me to let it go
Won the Super Bowl and Nas the only one congratulate me
So what’s Kendrick’s position on his role in the industry? Well, he tells us right here in the first verse and chorus:
I never lost who I am for a rap image
It's motivation if you wonder how I did it
Yeah, n***a, go and up your rank
Know you a god even when they say you ain't
Yeah, n***a, keep your feelings out the way
Never let no one put smut up on your name
This is the best possible song he could have dropped directly following “Not Like Us.” Aside from its lyricism, served with a healthy dose of ego, the production sounds like video game boss music to me—a perfect fit for a man fresh off of a public humiliation of all his enemies in rap. After several listens of this album, its opening track is still my favorite selection from the entire project.
Score: 10/10
“hey now” is about being “slid on.” It’s a declaration of resistance against the vultures of the music industry, attempting to use culture for benefit or force Kendrick into a place where he’s not happy artistically for more profit. Those are both moves that Kendrick repudiates in the verses of this track, as well as the chorus, where he specifically mentions his fame and power:
I'm way too important to ever let you slide on me again
The odd bridge of the track evokes Tones and I’s “Dance Monkey,” just without the awful music. The messaging of the two songs is surprisingly similar, though, that Kendrick isn’t just an object the industry can make “dance.”
I seen the aliens hold hands (I seen the aliens hold hands)
They wanna see me do my dance (They wanna see me do my dance)
I let 'em watch me do my dance
The theme of this album also slightly bleeds into the next topic we’ll be discussing, which is Kendrick’s absolute command over the genre. This is one of the first places where he explicitly references winning the war against Drake and his affiliates:
It's high beams if I make a public appearance
Go back to hidin' 'cause I'm not too friendly with n****s
One one thousand, two one thousand, four
The Black know I just strangled me a goat
I walked in with a therapeutic flow
Put a few hundred up, let 'em go, let 'em go
I have no idea who Dody6 is, but his verse at the end of this track goes absolutely crazy. His flow honestly matches 21 Savage’s—a rapper who I believe is at the top when it comes to delivery. His going back and forth with Kendrick a-la Kendrick and Keem on “family ties” and “range brothers” is a great way to close such a hard song.
Production-wise, this is one of the songs that is very Not Like Us-esque, a phenomenon we’ll further discuss when we get to “squabble up.” But a quick overview is that the echoey bass and clap and snare pattern seem to be deeply influenced by the chart-topping track. The variation of the clock ticking-sounding metronome in the background adds a further element to this great beat.
Score: 8/10
MUSTARD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“tv off” is a two-part hype masterpiece that combines aggressive delivery with DJ Mustard’s iconic production and incredible messaging. Mustard is written all over the first half of this track. The horn-sounding instrumental that sounds like a tone-shifted “Not Like Us” definitely runs into the problem of redundancy, but differentiates itself enough to not be repetitive. The second half is even better, as the electronic-sounding horn of the first section becomes an actual trumpet.
The lyrical messaging of this track seems to be a critique of the polarized media coverage of both general issues and rap as a whole. Igniting the beef had the side effect of dividing rap fans into two camps: you’re with Kendrick, or with Drake—the in-between that was a lot more acceptable pre-beef was far less feasible.
Funnily enough, Kendrick seems to take a weird 180 on the second line of this track, when he proclaims:
Fuck being rational, give 'em what they ask for
Right after he spends half the album talking about how he specifically won’t pander to the public. The best explanation I have to reconcile these two stances is that on this track, Kendrick is specifically referring to the seemingly more taboo topics his music covers, like a domestic argument in “We Cry Together” or the “generational curse” of sexual abuse in “Mother I Sober.” I think this may specifically be talking about the controversy Kendrick stirred up when he “misgendered” his transgender family members for storytelling purposes in “Auntie Diaries.”
Kendrick interpolates Biggie’s “Kick in the Door” as well as his own “King Kunta” to offer further comments on how despite the rap game attempting to control him, he can respond in kind:
Ain't no other king in this rap thing, like siblings
Nothing but my children, one shot, they disappearin'
I'm in a city with a flag, be gettin' thrown like it was pass interference
Padlock around the building
Crash, pullin' up in unmarked truck just to play freeze tag
With a bone to pick like it was sea bass
Score: 9/10
“peekaboo” further cements this tone shift, when Kendrick flips the script on the industry’s attempts at control (“you better not smut my name”). He’s specifically flaming the seemingly meaningless rap that’s taken over the charts in recent years, with the constant repetition of:
What they talkin' 'bout? They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin'
What they talkin' 'bout? They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin'
What they talkin' 'bout? They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin'
What they talkin' 'bout? They ain't talkin' 'bout nothin'
Unfortunately, this is Kendrick’s weakest offering under this theme. The song itself is pretty catchy, but the chorus eventually gets quite repetitive. The bit of calling back to “Not Like Us” (the “hey, hey, hey, hey” late in the song) has also gotten old at this point. This track is pretty much saved by its great features, with the return of Dody6 from the “hey now” track, as well as AzChike, who I think performed very convincingly on ScHoolboy Q’s “Movie” from BLUE LIPS.
Peekaboo, surprisе, bitch, it's that n***a Chike E. Cheese
Peekaboo, let mе FaceTime my opp, bitch, I'm up the street
Peekaboo, yeah, it's AZ, I'm puttin' somethin' to sleep
Peekaboo, he on the ground, I praise God and start stompin' feet
The shortcomings of this track highlight the album’s sole drawback—the repetition of its West Coast production style. Luckily, we have probably the most creative beat on the album coming next.
Score: 8/10
Kendrick’s Hip-Hop Dominance
I’m going to break the chronological system of my reviews here and talk about “heart pt. 6” first because I think it’s a fitting starting point for looking at the project’s talk about Kendrick’s success in a cutthroat rap scene.
This is where you’d expect the subliminal Drake diss to come through on this album, seeing how badly Drake botched his plan to steal the “The Heart Part 6” title from Kendrick in his quiet final word on the beef. That’s later, though. This is a song that heavily reminds me of my all-time favorite album—good kid, m.A.A.D. city—as it’s a direct insight into Kendrick’s upbringing and beginnings in his rap career.
In the first verse, Kendrick reminisces heavily on his rap infancy—looking up to Ab-Soul, hyping up Jay Rock, and searching for his own defined style. Late into his career development, Kendrick implies that the sense of hope and dedication his small group of artist friends had was unmatched, making challenging days seem positive:
Was excited just to go to them label meetings
Wasn't my record deal, but still, I couldn't beliеve it
Me and Rock inside thе booth hibernatin'
It was simple math, if he made it, that mean I made it
Everything I had was for the team, I remained patient
Grindin' with my brothers, it was us against them, no one above us, bless our hearts
The rest of the track further builds on this story. No name goes unmentioned throughout the song’s 5-minute length: it’s essentially the Avengers: Endgame of Top Dawg Entertainment. ScHoolboy Q gets a shoutout, and there’s a somber nod to the failure of the short-lived Black Hippy supergroup, which Kendrick blames himself for.
There’s a feeling of wonder that this instrumental evokes. I don’t know what it is about it, and this is a feeling that’s markedly difficult to put into a sound, but it even makes me feel hope. Maybe it’s because of the pseudo-motivational beat, maybe I associate some childhood memory with it, or maybe it’s all just a Placebo effect brought about by the heavily nostalgic lyrics—but it’s a feeling I undoubtedly get. The sound gives off a very ambiguous vibe, just like Kendrick was feeling in those uncertain times before he found success—never too bright, but not overtly sad, either. Whatever it is, it’s perfect and suits the lyrics amazingly.
Score: 10/10
“squabble up” is the “I am reincarnated, I was stargazing” snippet that was teased at the beginning of the “Not Like Us” music video. In a move that I didn’t see coming, the song exceeded my expectations. That’s because Kendrick dropped some of the year’s best flow and made the production even better than the snippet initially shown in the music video through a new sample and some other novel elements.
We’ve already talked about the “Not Like Us” similarities in several other songs, but I see this track as the spiritual sequel to “Not Like Us.” Most obviously, it was featured in the “NLU” music video and has a very similar BPM. It also has that signature echoey bass that was so obvious in Kendrick’s final diss. The snap, clap, and snare are all in very similar rhythm in the production as well. Halfway through the song, we hear the chant that was prevalent in the “OV-HOE!” section of “Not Like Us.”
Of all the songs where the West Coast trap production is present, it works the best on this one, and I think that’s because we were already anticipating a “Not Like Us”-sounding track if this snippet ever got released. It’s also obviously the first instance on the album where these similarities appear, and I probably just got fatigued over time at the repetition. I’m glad the production here works as well as it does, as it’s paired with some truly amazing lyricism that calls back to his past hits (“beat him up”—“family ties,” and obviously “Money Trees”):
I got hits, I got bucks, I got new paper cuts
I got friends, I got foes, but they all sitting ducks
Hit his turf and get crackin', double back like a deluxe
Fifty deep, but it ain't deep enough
Fuck a plea, there he go, beat him up
Fallin' from my money tree and it grow throughout the months
Spit a loogie at the camera, speed off, yeah, it's us
Score: 10/10
You wouldn’t expect a song as boastful as “man at the garden” to have this production. It sounds like Kendrick is giving you a sermon on why he deserves his fame, and it honestly works well—the slow pace and soft delivery complement his poetic cadence and the gradual crescendo that builds up before every chorus.
Even though this song is very arrogant, Kendrick is a motivational speaker disguised as a braggart. Recounting the way he conducts himself to ensure his discipline (6 miles a day? 6 AM? Didn’t know he had that dog in him).
'Cause my intentions was pure
Even when you wasn't sure
Even with every allure
How much temptation you endured?
You'd probably look for every cure
I said I deserve it all
This song is very much the foil to “Savior” on Mr. Morale. On “Savior,” Kendrick said that he didn’t deserve his idol status due to his many flaws, but he finally lets his audience and fans give him his flowers for everything he’s done for hip-hop and social progress. Whether that’s elevating the voices of those without a spotlight or helping even those who oppose him, Kendrick finally becomes brash enough to recognize his greatness after the self-critical masterpiece that was MMTBS.
Score: 9/10
I don’t have much to say about “gnx”. For the titular song of this album, it’s quite a disorganized and disappointing offering. The reason I place it in this category is that Kendrick is using his position at the top of the industry to spotlight newer artists, and while that’s a great concept and a commendable effort, it produces a track that feels like it has no direction on the backdrop of an odd, weirdly staccato-style beat.
There are some truly wack bars on this track that would be funny if someone like old Kanye West said it, but just sound awfully foolish coming from these unknown rappers when they try to act tough for the rest of the song:
Ayy, like it's Iraq, shooter name Hussein
Get on my Bob the Builder shit, get down with the pliers
It’s a pass for me, sorry.
Score: 6/10
Art’s Role in Change
SZA comes through with a D-Wade-level assist on “luther.” The track’s title refers to Luther Vandross, who they sample for the last line on each chorus:
If this world were mine
The lyrical content is essentially just SZA and Kendrick envisioning the utopia the world would be if under each of their control. We should have known how good this song would be from “All the Stars,” a stunning song from the Black Panther soundtrack by the two of them—they continue their flawless streak with this track as well.
In a pretty considerable contrast from “All the Stars,” though, the two artists sing most of the song’s passages together rather than trading verses back and forth. They complement each other beautifully, like Tyler and Lola Young on “Like Him.” Unlike “Like Him,” this is an incredibly upbeat and uplifting song.
In this world, concrete flowers grow
Heartache, she only doin' what she know
Weekends, get it poppin' on the low
Better days comin' for sure
If this world were—
If it was up to me
I wouldn't give these nobodies no sympathy
I'd take away the pain, I'd give you everything
I just wanna see you win, wanna see
If this world were mine
The production follows suit—it does feel like you’re prancing and frolicking around a field of flowers with this track. There’s so much joy packed into each verse and vocal delivery on this song, and SZA was the perfect feature artist to choose for it—no wonder she appears on the project twice.
Score: 10/10
This song got me with the bait-and-switch—I immediately went for it first since I thought it would be the “reincarnated” snippet from the “Not Like Us” video. Can you really blame me for that one though? I’m not even upset, because that took me straight to one of the project’s strongest entries.
Remember how I said that the subliminal Drake diss would come later? We already got the explicit Drake diss, on “hey now,” but the diss in this track is through the sample. It samples “Made N****z,” a 1997 Tupac hit that starkly contrasts the AI-generated Tupac voice Drake used for “Taylor Made Freestyle.” The result is a deeply old-school West Coast beat that sounds straight off a Tupac, Dre, or Snoop project.
Where this song truly shines, though, is through its lyricism. The mini-narrative he constructs through the song’s 4-minute duration is absolute cinema: he takes you through a tale of three perspectives, beginning as a younger version of himself, then transitioning into a ‘50s singer, then becoming the present-day Kendrick Lamar.
It’s at this point that he discusses his position and role in music itself, referencing his support for community institutions in his birthplace as well as his Pop Out concert, where he got Bloods and Crips to walk on the same stage:
Tell me every deed that you done and what you do it for
I kept one hundred institutions paid
Okay, tell me more
I put one hundred hoods on one stage
Okay, tell me more
I'm tryna push peace in L.A.
But you love war
And I obviously have to give credit to the last line for referencing my favorite album, good kid, m.A.A.D. city, talking about how he used the ills of gang violence to make himself successful and eventually give back:
I rewrote the devil's story just to take our power back, 'carnated
Score: 10/10
Miscellaneous
On the theme of “peace in L.A.,” “dodger blue” is one of the first times Kendrick has truly given love to his hometown. He talked relatively extensively about Compton in its eponymous song, then again in “King Kunta,” but he never fully paid real tribute to Los Angeles: he finally does that here.
To do so, he gets several L.A.-area rappers on the track, most notably Roddy Ricch, who appeared at the Pop Out concert and resurfaces from mediocrity again here.
This song is honestly pretty average. I’m obviously not from L.A., so perhaps the hometown sentiment is lost on me, but I don’t feel very compelled by this song. Even on a song with far simpler subject matter, we still get some classic bars from K.Dot surrounding the idea that people use the worst parts of L.A. to represent it:
Bitch, I’m from the LAnd
Don't say you hate L.A. when you don't travel past the 10
Am I trippin'? Yes, I am
Meditate over some money, I see Franklin, I find zen
The production here is also pretty average, really nothing to write home about. I think it’s pretty soothing, so that’s nice enough. And Sam Dew from “Savior,” one of my favorite MMTBS tracks, makes a reappearance.
I’m not sure I agree with Kendrick on this one. Some of the weirdest people I know are from L.A.
Score: 7/10
In a very funny move, for the final song on the album, Kendrick rips a page out of the Kanye West playbook, with an extended metaphor comparing his artistic creativity to a girl. Hell, he even goes near word-for-word for Kanye’s “Homecoming” in the opening verse, just when talking about different subjects:
I met her when I was off the porch as a teenager
I met this girl when I was three years old
Just like Kanye in “Homecoming,”—which is also my favorite song off Graduation, by the way—Kendrick takes this comparison as far as he can. He does it very well! Take here, where he talks about how he was initially lost with his rap abilities and used it as a coping mechanism for tragedies in his life.
I was in love with you, didn't know what it was with you
Kiss you in back of the class just to get a buzz with you
Some n****s wanted you, but they weren't committed
Preoccupied playin' John Madden and bullshittin'
Remember when granny died? You looked at me and said, “Baby, dry your eyes
Depend on me as your relief, let your anger be mine”
Using this metaphor, Kendrick slightly builds on the previously covered ideas a little more, about the dangers fighting for the culture exposes him to in the industry.
You were spontaneous, firecracker, plus our love is dangerous
Life of passion, laughin' at you lose your temper, slightly crashin'
SZA also returns for another great vocal feature, re-apply everything I already said about “luther” because we’re nearing the end of the review and I’m getting pretty tired of writing everything. Great track.
Rating: 9/10
Summary
My biggest fear post-beef was that Kendrick would release a subpar album full of pop songs to pander to his new fans. I’m happy to say that my fears were not realized, apart from the clear intent to replicate the success of “Not Like Us.” “NLU” comparisons aside, the clear West Coast influence on this project comes at a perfect time following a beef that seemingly pitted cities against each other. This style does eventually suffer from a repetition issue at the end, but the production is diverse enough to ultimately not be an issue.
Lyrically, this is classic Kendrick. We see both amazing one-liners and beautiful track-long narratives like “Gloria.” Continuing his lyrical prowess, Kendrick displays how he won the beef so decisively—and talks about the beef as he does it. He unleashes hard-hitting shots at the industry, like his scathing takedown of meaningless rap on “peekaboo” or his many references, subliminal and explicit, to Drake.
Although features from notable artists—most glaringly Baby Keem—are still lacking, the assists from underground musicians are just as compelling. The blend of slower, more soothing songs with aggressive, passionate rants is perfect for the LP. And finally, I’m just happy that I got the snippet I’ve been waiting for—and that it was even better than I expected.
Though I do still have hope that an album should be dropping next year, a project of this quality will keep me satiated for maybe the next half-decade.
OVERALL SCORE: 8.8/10
Song-by-Song Breakdown
Best:
wacced up murals
heart pt. 6
reincarnated
Worst: GNX
Best Lyricism: reincarnated
Best Production: squabble up
Best Performance: wacced up murals
Best Feature: SZA, luther