God does like ugly: an album worth waiting for.

By Ndyebo Magwevana.

On 8 August 2025, almost every netizen within the hip-hop community proclaimed:

“We eatin’ good!”

Now, dear reader, this term is defined in the slang.net dictionary as “[a] phrase [that] likens

a [person’s] satisfaction to the satisfaction people feel after eating a delicious meal.”

…and this phrase fits this album precisely.

JID ends the 3-year wait for his latest album, via Rolling Stone.

Dearest reader, let me introduce you to JID, a renowned rap artist who landed on my radar

last month with his stunning guest appearance on the rapper-producer duo Freddie Gibbs

and The Alchemist’s “Alfredo 2” album. Ending the approximately 5-year-long wait for a new

album, he returns with “God Does Like Ugly”, an album promising to burst with creativity

and originality, and a colossal feature list including the likes of Westside Gunn, the hailed

rap duo Clipse (consisting of brothers Pusha T and Malice), Vince Staples and Don Toliver, to

name a few. This album is another stellar addition to the already impressive catalogue of

albums that core hip-hop fans were blessed with this year, too.

As for me, this is another long-awaited piece of real music and a step towards healing my

Spotify algorithm after witnessing it being dismally wounded by artificiality (*cough, cough*

The Velvet Sundown). I rub my hands together in excitement and intrigue, settling myself in

my room, wondering what I will listen to for the next 57 minutes and 27 seconds, smiling as

I silently say, “Finally, some real human-made music.” I click on the cover art of the album

and, with an eager swiftness, press play.

The cover art of: God Does Like Ugly, illustrated by Luciano Maia, via Genius.

Immediately, Westside Gunn’s bravado-infused lines echo across my earphones in the

album’s opener, “YouUgly”. Unsettling, bassy and immersive instrumentals set the stage for

JID’s entrance. It is dark and ominous in its start-stop execution. He introduces himself as a

saviour of sorts and makes a statement of intent to the fans who “judge record sales […] like

they record exes themselves.” This carries on towards the following three tracks were the

murkiness that lies beneath the sunny avenues of Atlanta, his hometown, is vividly depicted

in the tracks “Community” – an account of the dismal conditions of township life, enunciated by its raw and near-acoustic motifs and notably known for JID’s out-of-context

vendetta for Bob the builder – and “Gz,” a grisly first-person recounting of a robbery.

Then, I find myself shoulder-rolling and nodding my way to a sudden shift in tone from the

eerie four starters, with funky, groovy tracks like “Sk8,” a track that echoes the roller-skate

dancing side of Atlanta with its funky chord progressions and the refreshing, clean-cut vocals

from Ciara and EARTHGANG, and “What We On” with an odd but listenable set of nightlife

lyricism alongside Don Toliver. While this pair of tunes does gradually dull, due to the choice

in production and lack of progression, it does stay intact for the most part.

A smoother transition awaits me as I find myself making a “stank face” to “Wholeheartedly”,

a notable nod to the 2010s’ guitar-heavy R&B classics, appropriately bringing along Ty Dolla

$ign and 6LACK on what makes for a stellar showcase in JID’s singing potential and overall

cohesiveness between the three throughout the track. This soul-food-like consistency

carries on to “No Boo,” the painfully brief interlude “And We Vibing,” and the ethereal and

introspective “Of Blue” with Mereba.

The eerie aspects of the album make a bold and frightening return with “On McAfee” and

the most notable penultimate track, “K-Word,” with Pastor Troy, the latter embodying JID’s

rage and intensity, further accentuated by Pastor Troy’s loud vocals and sharp lines that

mesh seamlessly with JID’s contained demeanour. It is a highlight on my books for its highly

enjoyable personification of karma: a woman who is equally as beautiful as she is difficult.

JID then ends off with a thank-you letter to the listener for supporting him “back when we

were packin’ out the department store” and an indirect message that he is now a father in

“For Keeps”, leaving me sighing contentedly as I think to myself,

“Yup, definitely another good elixir for my algorithm.”

And I click the “save” button and go back to shuffling through my library for something

new…

Of course, this album is so much more than a mere healing potion for my Spotify algorithm.

It is a stellar depiction of the bright and dark sides of his soul, his exploration of his

spirituality (and has a few biblical references spread throughout the album), and his past

experiences in Atlanta, which are now documented with what is now a more mature lens.

This album is, unlike The Velvet Sundown, a multifaceted and versatile project, with

deliberately “ugly” transitions (its seemingly sudden changes in atmosphere are meant to be

listened to like a film and not a musical album) and imperfect production, further driving the

point of the title home:

God does like ugly.