Earlier this week, a tweet from a Young Thug parody account clowned Gunna’s new album, The Last Wun, by proclaiming, “Nobody wunna hear that shit.” The message went viral as sundry accounts spread disinformation that it was from Thugger himself. It served as a reminder that no matter how much the 32-year-old Atlanta melodic rapper has doggedly maintained his A-list status in the wake of the YSL trial – which he extricated himself from by working out an Alford plea deal with prosecutors – his career will always be overshadowed by taunts from keyboard warriors and former compatriots like Young Thug that he’s a “snitch.” As a result, Gunna’s music has acquired an undercurrent of anxious self-affirmation and angry defiance.
It’s a marked shift from the way he glided to stardom in the late 2010s with smoothly frivolous boasts like “Drip Too Hard” with Lil Baby. On 2018’s Drip or Drown 2, he depicted himself holding an umbrella while underwater, a portrait of sonic liquidity. What is Gunna’s image now? It’s a dilemma that fuels The Last Wun, his sixth and reportedly final album for Thug’s Young Stoner Life imprint. Sonically, it doesn’t sound much different from prior projects. The beats, made by producer Turbo and others, are pulsing, bass-driven arrangements that often seem to blur together. At 25 songs, there’s too many tracks, but the effect isn’t necessarily bad. The album lasts a bit over an hour and has peaks and valleys typical of modern rap’s onomatopoeic nature, where verses and choruses float by in a murky, addled stream.
Still, it feels like Gunna hasn’t gotten enough credit for weathering a life-altering crisis. His 2023 album following his release from prison, A Gift & a Curse, was a riveting work that added a serrated lyrical edge to his usual catalogue of private jet flights and sex-filled nights. After years of being lauded for effortless flows, unusual bars, and not much else, it finally seemed like he had something to say, if only to defend his honor. The album sold well, largely thanks to its hooky radio smash “Fukumean,” but rap aesthetes seemed divided over its merits. (His 2024 album, One of Wun, touched on the same themes, but didn’t have the same impact.) Could it be that Gunna has grown as an artist yet critics, too bedazzled by the WWE-styled infighting that characterizes rap boys’ club as well as his markedly physical transformation from frumpy to chiseled, failed to notice?
The cover art for The Last Wun is an unusual, Cubist-like sculpture designed by Devon DeJardin. In an RS interview, Gunna said, “The visuals match the whole vibe of the project: pressure, pain, progress, and real reflection.” Throughout the album, he toggles between allusions to riding in Mercedes luxury, murmuring at women that become wet with desire at his mere presence and brushing haters off his shoulders. “Life feel like a war, but Lord protectin’ my soul,” he raps on “Many Nights.” There are numerous lines that internet chatterers will undoubtedly (mis)interpret as references to Young Thug and other frenemies, like “I see a lot of cappin’, they broke as a pencil/That ain’t no good for your mental,” on “Biting My Game,” and “Fuck Witcha Boy,” which take solace in the wealth he and an unnamed friend have created. They may not be wrong, but they’re undoubtedly missing the forest for the trees. The crux of The Last Wun is Gunna contending with a narrative he hadn’t anticipated, much less wanted. “I don’t know if it’s just the season but it’s like my heart gettin’ colder/God had set me back and it’s like it all started over/I done got back moving, I had to return a few soldiers/Put your feet in my shoes, let me see you stand on my shoulders,” he raps on “CWFM.”
As for the songs themselves, “Just Say Dat” has a terrifically sinuous beat, while “What They Thinkin’” crumbles from lachrymose guitar effects. “Satisfaction” feels like a particularly emotive moment from a John Hughes synth-pop soundtrack. “I can change the climate, but my heart cold,” Gunna claims. There are cameos from Afrobeats performers Asaka, Burna Boy, and Wizkid, and Offset shows up on “At My Purest” to rap, “Rockstar, grab my crotch (crotch), Rick Owen high-tops (Ricky)/I go in Miami, Kawasaki with two thots (thots).” Not every cut is a keeper. Gunna drops some nice bars on “Sakpase” as he raps, “Sak pase? Brand new tracks, ándale/I’m connected through checks and got pounds of this cake (yeah).” At other points, particularly on “At My Purest,” his flow sounds plodding. Later, he raps on “Endless,” “Spit it like Nas, I’m the illest (Illmatic).”
One can’t help but notice a dearth of big-name rap talent on The Last Wun, appearances by Offset and YSL understudy Nechie (on “I Can’t Feel My Face”) notwithstanding. The days when he used DS4Ever to chill with Drake and Future for fun and profit seem long past. But if the uneven but ultimately satisfying machinations of The Last Wun are proof, there are worse places to be than alone at the top. “I’ve been gainin’ from the pain,” he raps on “Showed Em.” “Thanks for all the hurt.”
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