Clipse ‘Let God Sort Em Out’ Review: Pusha T & Malice Reunite for 2025’s Boldest Rap Album
Clipse just dropped Let God Sort Em Out and if you’ve been craving real rap, this one hits like a brick. Pusha T and Malice back together feels like the universe correcting itself. Fifteen years apart didn’t dull their edge. If anything, they sound hungrier now than they did when Grindin’ first shook up car speakers back in 2002.
This record already has plenty of buzz thanks to some label drama. The beef between Kendrick Lamar and Drake just won’t die quietly. Universal apparently tried to block Chains and Whips because Kendrick appears on it with Pusha. The label must think just having those two on the same track pokes at Drake. So Clipse bought out their contract and went to Roc Nation instead. Now Chains and Whips stays on the album, drama and all.
How Does The Reunion Feel?
Malice, now just Malice again, ditched the “No” he used for years after he turned to faith. He’s rapping about coke again. He’s not shy about why. On POV, he shrugs, “Came back for the money, that’s the devil in me.” But it doesn’t feel cheap. His wordplay still cuts. His euphemisms for his old trade are sharp enough to slice your headphones open. Lady Gaga as slang? That’s new.
Pusha T, of course, hasn’t lost a step. He’s the same icy king who once buried Drake with The Story of Adidon. On this album, he swings at Travis Scott on So Be It Pt II with no mercy. He spits lines like “You rappers all beneath me” on Ace Trumpets and you believe it.
What About The Beats And Guests?
Pharrell’s fingerprints are everywhere. It’s like he found the part of his brain from early Neptunes days and plugged it back in. Some beats sound like they could blow your speakers just standing still. Ebitda’s rhythm never sits still for you. Inglorious Bastards twists a horn riff until it sounds broken in the best way. Gospel flips, weird synths, chopped Indian vocals — it’s all here. Pharrell recorded parts of this album inside Louis Vuitton’s Paris HQ. Somehow, it sounds just as raw as a Virginia basement.
The features feel like guests, not stars. Nas pops in. Tyler, the Creator shows up. They spit fire but never steal the crown. This is Clipse’s house and everyone knows it. The Birds Don’t Sing is the one odd beat. John Legend’s pop hook feels too sweet. But then the lyrics crack you open. The brothers rap about losing both parents. It’s rough and honest in a way Clipse never showed before.
Fans who think hip-hop is all vibes now — Playboi Carti mumbling over synth loops — need to hear this. Pusha T and Malice remind you rap can still punch your brain and your heart at the same time. Fifteen years gone and they didn’t just come back. They came back better. Let God Sort Em Out is a middle finger, a cold memoir and a flex all at once.
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