Hmmm I think it’s possible for sure

This album sucks ass like all you dumb niggas in this thread

Thread aint even active enough to be this much in u feelings bro

if it just contained bodies it would already be better than iceman

better to jus end on a high note, continue the mysterious feature / pglang / film producer streak and then drop some seasoned "im 42" s***

not in my feelings

but you seem like a b**** ass nigga

why you hanging out on a forum all day hating on an artist that you don't f*** with? f***ing dumbass

This would be the corniest s*** of all time so it's definitely a fan theory lol

KENDRICK LAMAR - FIREMAN 🔥🔥🔥 | MAY 15TH

KENDRICK LAMAR - FIREMAN 🔥🔥🔥 | MAY 15TH

u really a bum ass nigga digging up a post about a week ago

looks like I got u midget fans upset

"digging up" it's the second post from the top on this page you dumbass

suck my d*** b**** ass nigga

matter of fact let me f*** your girl and u can sit on a cuck chair and watch

oh this @davey alt :vlosereave:

Doin all this over drake?

Played this a mentally unwell amount for pretty much all of 2025. Took quite a few months off now and put wacced out murals on. He was in such an insane mode on there

NYT Article ; 30 greatest living american song writers:

archive.is/0YNBE

This was their 5 songs

Five Essential Songs
“Rigamortus”
“Swimming Pools (Drank)”
“Hood Politics”
“Count Me Out”
“Euphoria”

Kendrick Lamar’s songs hunger to mean more than everybody else’s. They’re X-rays of his behavior and also yours. They’re vivifications of Compton, Calif., his psychic epicenter. They do passion, sex, recrimination, uplift, letdown, guilt, pride, money’s elemental contagion — with vulgarity, ruthlessness and heart. He’s rapacious and voracious. The songs often have eyes bigger than their stomachs. But Lamar’s velocity reflects his ambition. The rhymes hurtle out at double and triple time. The rapping matches the writing: pure spandex, sometimes with absurd leaps into anxiously higher vocal registers (try “FEEL.” from “DAMN.”).
The music driving these songs often combines pop, rock, soul, funk, crunk, street-corner church, bounce and quiet storm; on something like “i,” it’s most of those at once. Lamar recombines himself, too, from different points of view: his parents, his women, his subconscious, his people, his enemies. There’s what they call conscious rap — music determined to stroll sidewalks rather than thrive in the streets. Then there’s what Lamar is up to: subconscious rap. He’s our great out-of-body rapper. The songs are these one-man shows of self-reckoning (Lamar’s writing loves a mirror) and wreaking havoc. Occasionally, they reckon with havoc, or they’re brutal re-enactments of it, the way he and the actress Taylour Paige do with stunning vulgarity on “We Cry Together.”
Lamar might also be our most ideological practicing rapper, condemning those he has judged as inauthentic, opportunistic, insufficiently modest — as peers, as men, as Black men. Two springs ago, he and Drake found themselves doing battle in what was essentially a songwriting contest that took … a turn. The expediency of their exchanges (back and forth over a couple of weeks) electrified the planet, especially the mounting viciousness of Lamar’s attack (ad hominem all the way). Some of what riveted us was that we didn’t know Lamar quite had this in him: short-order anthems full of murderous overreaction, dogged spite, the profound and the petty.
He’d tasked himself with the job of laying waste to the biggest, most elastic hip-hop artist on Earth, exorcising him from the culture on charges of fraud. The sense that this whole affair somehow felt beneath Lamar speaks to the loftiness of his artistry: the hill of Grammys, a career upon the summit of critics’ lists and polls, a Pulitzer Prize in 2018. Why would he be here, at the gallows, doing headsman work? Because he could, as in because he was able, capable. He emerged from that war not only more popular but more aware of his power as a writer, newly thrilled by it.
It has always been clear that Lamar could write personally and therefore politically. But over the last decade, that intelligence has only sharpened. The songs don’t feel thought out so much as they seem to be thinking right there on the spot. The great rappers tend to work with that kind of immediacy. Lamar, though, stuffs his songs with more ideas, more evolution, than you’d find on a single album by another musician. You can hear someone on a journey of discovery, looking at the person he is and sometimes at the people we are. He’s evolving at warp speed. So, yeah, sometimes the wheels come off and the chassis is gone. But there’s Lamar, still going, like one of those cartoons, where a character’s driving nothing but himself and a steering wheel, exposed yet also free, daring to go too far to someplace new. — Wesley Morris

George Clinton on Kendrick Lamar
I’ll put it like this: He, along with Motown, Sly Stone, the Beatles — that kind of institution is going to last. There are a lot of slick writers out here nowadays with lyrics and things, but he writes with soul. He’s a young kid, but when I met him, he sounded my age. He’s like a psychiatrist on record — he talks about expletive that most people are afraid to talk about. He’s at that point where he can move the conversation. Nobody will talk about these topics, and he talks about them so matter-of-factly that you don’t even think, You can’t say that.
Making it commercial is another thing. It’s one thing to be hard-core gangster rapping so you can say things. But when you’re talking about life in general and make it sound so hard, so cool — then watch the kids say, No, he ain’t all that, then turn around the next year and change their minds? Kids today, they want their new artist; they don’t want their older brother or sister’s artist or their mother and father’s. Kids don’t like you after a few years. When you can go past that and have the next generation after that still talking about you, you’re doing something.
That whole “To Pimp a Butterfly” album, it was like one song to me. It was like Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On.” And he’s starting all over each time he puts an album out — he’s like a brand-new kid. — George Clinton is the leader of Parliament-Funkadelic. Interview by Jenn Pelly. Text has been edited and condensed.

Nothing about GNX is classic other than it's release window.