Art via Evan Solano
Donald Morrison is still pitching on three days rest.
There’s an implied elegance to Veeze’s “Rich Junkie” moniker. To me, he’s like the Jay-Z of Michigan shit-talking rap. A luxurious “quality over quantity” mentality that feels more vintage Roc-A-Fella than most of his Detroit contemporaries. He raps like he’s sipping lean with his pinky finger out. “I’m walking around with lean gut, my bitch eats nothing but grass,” he says on “Right Key,” which possesses the type of seedy intensity of his early collaborations with Lucki.
This time, Veeze partnes with Chicago prodigy Chuckyy, whose deadpan, double-time flow has become ubiquitous in 2025. Chuckyy is great at stretching his voice right at the end of verses, bending words and elongating vowels to make it sound like he’s struggling to keep up with the beat. On “Right Key,” Chuckyy takes a page from Veeze’s flex playbook to boast “I be bored, I bought a bag of chips because it matched my jacket.”
Drakeo The Ruler became famous for hopping on other rappers’ beats and making them his own. Some of his biggest songs are remakes of tracks from Jeremih, Shoreline Mafia and Shordie Shordie, like “Betchua Freestyle” and “Impatient Freestyle.” It’s no surprise that Blue Pesos of OTM would strive to do the same. He picked well with the beat from “She So,” by Kalan.FrFr, a regional hit last year that didn’t get enough praise. It sounds like something Dr. Dre could have made 20 years ago, with a smacking snare and simple keyboard loop.
Blue Pesos’ slithery, whispered flow is sharper than ever. “She’s so in love with my chain, thank Rami, at night I be up fighting demons, got insomnia,” he says. Duffy comes in with a completely different energy, sounding like his vocals have been chopped and screwed compared to Blue Pesos. I’d love to see Kalal.FrFr do an official remix with every street rapper he can find in the 213.
CUZZOS have an ear for production that builds on Mustard’s early ’10s sounds with the influence of Pink Dollaz – one that exists in a post-Bluebucks LA world. The video for “Moesha” shows the ladies in extremely fresh CUZZOS varsity jackets, speaking truth to power as they extol the virtues of sisterhood and clown the simps before them. As Milly Mo says: “I get to sippin, now im jiggin’ like my uncle Earl, he mad I ain’t text back, I am just a girl.”
Tony Shhnow was born in LA, but relocated with his parents to Atlanta, and he’s been leaning into his birthplace a little more lately. Earlier in the year, he collaborated with CUZZOS and his production choices have started to tilt towards the West. “I Can’t” is the type of song that slowly makes you start speeding on the freeway, before you realize you’re accidentally going 100mph.
Shhnow unlocks an insane flow for the chorus, rhyming every third line. He’s great at making street songs that feel intricately-written and well thought out. “I’m supposed to put the drank down, stop getting high, quit fucking ratchet hoes, but I can’t” he says, acknowledging that his lifestyle in incongruous with longevity.
“Wrist Watch” is the stripped-down Remble of yesteryear, reminiscent of early Youtube hits like “Westside 2 The Westside,” and “Never Tell.” Remble’s latest album, “JUCO,” shows the San Pedro rapper experimenting with different types of production, from the guitar-riff heavy “Swimwear,” to the grandiose “Red Light Green Light.” He mostly succeeds, managing to approach different beats without changing his matter-of-fact delivery.
But Remble is at his best when he leans into his regionality. “Wrist Watch” starts immediately, with Remble speaking the moment the beat drops, “Ima strip him if he walks in with that big Carti’, all your paperwork you probably have a snitch party,” he says. His conversational flow later in the song reminds me of Mac Dre’s ability to be funny and menacing at the same time.
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