With his wit and old-school rhyme influences, Wale resembles his contemporaries Kid Cudi and Lupe Fiasco, both of whom embrace innovation and tradition with equal regard. Still, Attention Deficit is less insular than The Cool or Man On the Moon. Even though Wale is interested in changing rap, he is a rapper to the core, and for all its dazzling sonic detours, his major- label debut is ultimately a showcase of rhyme skills. He has the swiftness and enthusiasm of a rookie, and his boasts in “Triumph” are marvelous: “Me against you the movie of the year / ‘Cause you slum dawg and I'm the millionaire / Their buzz internet and mines in her net / Should know I'm winnin’ that Chanel fitted cap.” The cross-genre appeal of Attention Deficit is confirmed by its guest list. Southern street-rap heroes Bun B and Gucci Mane appear alongside the pop stars Pharrell and Lady GaGa and modern-day divas Chrisette Michele and Jazmine Sullivan. Best of all, “Pretty Girls,” “Prescription” and “Shades” seamlessly incorporate the go-go rhythms of Wale’s native D.C., a nice hometown touch.

With his wit and old-school rhyme influences, Wale resembles his contemporaries Kid Cudi and Lupe Fiasco, both of whom embrace innovation and tradition with equal regard. Still, Attention Deficit is less insular than The Cool or Man On the Moon. Even though Wale is interested in changing rap, he is a rapper to the core, and for all its dazzling sonic detours, his major- label debut is ultimately a showcase of rhyme skills. He has the swiftness and enthusiasm of a rookie, and his boasts in “Triumph” are marvelous: “Me against you the movie of the year / ‘Cause you slum dawg and I'm the millionaire / Their buzz internet and mines in her net / Should know I'm winnin’ that Chanel fitted cap.” The cross-genre appeal of Attention Deficit is confirmed by its guest list. Southern street-rap heroes Bun B and Gucci Mane appear alongside the pop stars Pharrell and Lady GaGa and modern-day divas Chrisette Michele and Jazmine Sullivan. Best of all, “Pretty Girls,” “Prescription” and “Shades” seamlessly incorporate the go-go rhythms of Wale’s native D.C., a nice hometown touch.

Wale's Back to the Feature skips between street rap, indie rock, and pop culture, exulting in the contradictions. As a new version of “Chillin” turns the Gaga pop confection into funky ‘90s hip-hop, “Um Ricka” sets lyrics about Richard Nixon over horns sampled from Mali’s Amadou & Mariam.

The title of Wale’s sophomore album pretty much says it all—these songs are dripping with swagger and self-assertion, justified by the D.C. rapper’s relentless flow and brazen attitude. Released by the Maybach Music label of Miami mastermind Rick Ross, Ambition doesn’t take Wale away from his underground past so much as kick him up to the next level. Part of the album’s positive glow comes from the involvement of A-list collaborators—DJ Toomp cranks up the party quotient on “Legendary,” and Big Sean dives into the mix on “Slight Work.” For his part, Wale believably asserts himself as a man on the rise, shrugging off past triumphs while daring all comers to take him on. “Don’t Hold Your Applause” and the title track (featuring Ross and Meek Mill) combine gangsta cool with a seething inner desperation. Stretching Ambition’s boundaries are “Miami Nights” (a salute to Ross’ home base, spiced with smoldering horns), “Lotus Flower Bomb” (an intoxicating slow jam with an erotic kick), and “Illest B****” (an affectionate salute to the ladies in his life).

The title of Wale’s sophomore album pretty much says it all—these songs are dripping with swagger and self-assertion, justified by the D.C. rapper’s relentless flow and brazen attitude. Released by the Maybach Music label of Miami mastermind Rick Ross, Ambition doesn’t take Wale away from his underground past so much as kick him up to the next level. Part of the album’s positive glow comes from the involvement of A-list collaborators—DJ Toomp cranks up the party quotient on “Legendary,” and Big Sean dives into the mix on “Slight Work.” For his part, Wale believably asserts himself as a man on the rise, shrugging off past triumphs while daring all comers to take him on. “Don’t Hold Your Applause” and the title track (featuring Ross and Meek Mill) combine gangsta cool with a seething inner desperation. Stretching Ambition’s boundaries are “Miami Nights” (a salute to Ross’ home base, spiced with smoldering horns), “Lotus Flower Bomb” (an intoxicating slow jam with an erotic kick), and “Illest B****” (an affectionate salute to the ladies in his life).

Wale cuts a lone figure on his third long-player. The only features here come from a few R&B vocalists who match the production's soulful bent: Tiara Thomas assists on the melancholic, acoustic guitar-infused "Bad," while the lead single "LoveHate Thing" fuses a slinky Marvin Gaye sample with Sam Dew's trilling on the hook.

With songs detailing everything from his sometimes-contentious relationship with fans (“The Helium Balloon”) to passionate pleas on the state of young black men in America (“The Pessimist”), Nothing is an ambitious and highly personal project with wide-angle production that flips Janet Jackson and Isaac Hayes samples alongside live-band funk and futuristic synths.

The title phrase of Wale’s sixth studio album, Wow… That’s Crazy, exists mostly in common parlance as conversational placeholder. We often hear it delivered by someone on the receiving end of an elaborate story, buying time to process what they’re hearing or to formulate a more insightful response. In the case of Wale’s Wow… That’s Crazy, the DC rapper is opening up about his worldview and some things in it that have been weighing on him, in a way likely to leave listeners in need of a second to process. The album opens with “Sue Me,” on which the rapper grapples with his presence in the entertainment matrix. “Sue me, I’m rooting for everybody that’s black,” he admits. There are a number of references to his vantage point here—as it refers to the black experience specifically, including odes to black women (“BGM,” “Black Bonnie”) as well as ruminations on his responsibility as a young leader. “We just want to be black and legendary/Be us and be proud by any means necessary,” he raps on “Love Me Nina / Semiautomatic.” On the 6LACK collaboration “Expectations,” he raps, “Black man in therapy/’Cause white terror don’t sleep/I got to roll up my leaf/Might stop the PTSD.” Another theme of Wow… That’s Crazy is the complexity of the modern relationship—one familiar to Wale fans. The Jeremih-assisted “On Chill” finds him begging for a reprieve from a relationship’s fighting, while “Set You Free” has the rapper taking responsibility for his missteps within a partnership. There’s also the Lil Durk collaboration “Break My Heart,” which gives us a rare glimpse into the guesting Chicago MC’s softer side. In addition to the aforementioned guests, Wow… That’s Crazy features Ari Lennox, Meek Mill, Jacquees, and Megan Thee Stallion (among others), who all do their part to help the MC tell a story that fans can take their time with.

Samples have long been part of the lifeblood of Wale's catalog, but on Folarin II, they are prominent, offering insights about who and what has inspired the D.C. rapper. “I give flowers to my inspirations, my OGs, my contemporaries, my peers, and myself,” he tells Apple Music's Nadeska of the album, his seventh. The three lead singles were the first hint. “Angles,” “Down South,” and “Poke It Out” all are built around the familiarity of their samples: Diddy’s 2002 “I Need a Girl (Pt. 1),” Mike Jones' 2004 “Still Tippin',” and Q-Tip's 1999 “Vivrant Thing,” respectively. Each one is designed to play on nostalgia, while also spotlighting Wale's dexterity. Other gems include the regret-tinged “Dearly Beloved,” which features a dazzling loop of Jamie Foxx's performance on his eponymous TV show, and the flirtatious “Caramel,” which functions as an homage to legendary producer (and D.C. native) Chucky Thompson, who died in August of 2021 from COVID complications. “He produced the original 'Caramel Kisses' by Faith [Evans],” Wale says. “I just want to send a special shout-out to him, because our last conversation was about that record and sampling it, so that's a special piece to the project for me.” But for as much as Wale (deservedly) places himself in dialogue with greats past and present, the thing that separates him remains his ability to bring the lively sound of his hometown to wider audiences. It's in the subtle go-go textures of “More Love” and the outright bounce beat of “Jump In,” as the rapper glides across the percussion. Folarin II may have been made as a way for Wale to dole out the respect he's craved for himself, but it's high time to give it back.

Anyone who’s seen Seinfeld knows that underneath the show’s razor wit is a mild misanthropy. So it was only natural that Wale would be the one to finally merge that beloved sitcom with hip-hop, as he did on his breakthrough project, 2008’s The Mixtape About Nothing. That record’s sequel, More About Nothing, crystallizes the combination of biting humor and emotional availability that turned Wale into one of rap’s most three-dimensional stars. The record finds him at turns ambitious and acidic, tackling heartbreak on “The Breakup Song” and those who doubt the rarity of his limited-edition Nikes on “The Posse Cut (Who Don’t)” with equal alacrity—and with the aid of a studio audience, which seems to laugh along with him.

everything is a lot. marks Wale’s first full-length since his 2021 album Folarin II, titled after his nickname. While everything is a lot. shares some of the joyful DNA that courses through the project named after his alter ego, Wale Folarin, it showcases another side of the D.C.-born rapper’s personality—more introspective, alone, and yearning than ever before. Throughout the album, Wale works through relationship struggles while readily admitting that he’s part of (if not all of) the problem. On opener “Conundrum,” he notes that his heart is colder than most, before explaining why it’s this way: “My ex, I was in love with her/Passionate sex but couldn’t cuddle her/Tell me, was it lust or did I love for her?/Her clothes off, I’m closed off, which one is worse?” On “Power and Problems,” Wale croons over live drums and gentle keyboard chords. He implores himself to slow down, noting that life in the fast lane can get bumpy. It’s no surprise that he saves his most ferocious bars for “Michael Fredo,” a towering, horn-driven track that finds Wale reflecting on the many ways he’s been betrayed in the rap game. Over a beat that sounds like old-school Just Blaze, Wale sounds invigorated and vengeful, noting that “this rich and famous shit ain’t sustainable.” Throughout everything is a lot., Wale makes it clear that the weight of the world is on his shoulders. He’s deflecting jealous exes, dealing with greedy ops, making sure his crew is taken care of. Wouldn’t it be easier if everyone would just let him rap?