After a 16-year wait, legendary hip-hop group Clipse’s 2025 record “Let God Sort Em Out” is a thrilling retrospective on their past. The duo, brothers Pusha T and Malice, grew up in Virginia Beach as childhood friends with Pharrell Williams, who produced every Clipse album. They got their start in the early 2000s with “Lord Willin” (2002) and “Hell Hath No Fury” (2006), both considered to be among the best hip-hop albums ever.
In 2009, after a lackluster third album, a federal drug investigation (that resulted in their manager getting sentenced to 20 years in jail), and personal religious qualms regarding their content, Malice left the group. This led Pusha T to pursue an extremely successful solo career, releasing four albums and earning 11 Grammy nominations. He also had a public feud with Drake and a tight creative partnership with Kanye West as the president of West’s label (G.O.O.D. Music) until their relationship ended in 2022 following West’s antisemitic comments.
Around June of 2024, rumblings started to emerge about the possibility of a reunion album. As a longtime fan, I feared the album might be a shallow cash grab, as often happens when music legends return. The release of this album in July of 2025 proved that this could not have been further from the truth. “Let God Sort Em Out” sees Clipse successfully mastering their signature old-school hip-hop sound in a way that still sounds incredibly fresh for 2025, all while not compromising the substance of the record. This LP fires on all cylinders; neither Pusha nor Malice delivers a single verse that doesn’t demand a deep dive, and Pharrell’s immaculate production throughout.
The album opens with “The Birds Don’t Sing,” a stunning departure from the street tales and luxury bars that Clipse built their careers on. Instead, the brothers turned inward, crafting a devastating tribute to their parents (who died only a few months apart in 2022) over Pharrell’s haunting piano and rich strings. Every word feels like an open wound as they speak directly to their mother and father, their voices shaking with everything left unsaid, with lyrics like “Your car was in the driveway, I knew you were home/By the third knock, a chill ran through my bones/The way you missed Mama, I guess I should’ve known/Chivalry ain’t dead, you ain’t let her go alone.” John Legend’s soulful hook and a reflective Stevie Wonder’s outro round out the track, turning it into handily one of the most emotionally raw tracks in hip-hop history.
The next track, “Chains and Whips,” featuring Kendrick Lamar, who rarely appears on features unless it’s for one of music’s greats, gives the listener whiplash right back into a typical Clipse grimy, underworld-tinted braggadocio. Malice and Pusha deliver menacing, razor-sharp verses, with lyrics like “Your lucky streak is now losin’ you/You’re gaspin’ for air now, it’s beautiful” directed at rapper Jim Jones, who questioned Pusha’s inclusion on Billboard’s list of the 50 Greatest Rappers of All Time in 2023. Pusha’s chorus flips chains and whips, symbols of oppression, into markers of wealth to show how he’s weaponized the system that is meant to crush him (a “whip” is slang for a luxury car).
This rolls into “P.O.V.” with Clipse superfan Tyler, the Creator. “P.O.V.” is a classic Clipse club banger, with impossibly creative bars and immaculate Pharrell production. Tyler fits perfectly into this track, with chemistry that is almost impossible to find from a featured artist. However, it’s Malice who steals the show on this track, with an incredible verse on how the hip-hop industry has changed since his heyday. Retrospective lyrics like “I was the only one to walk away and really be free/I done sung along with rappers I never believed/Came back for the money, that’s the Devil in me/Had to hide it from the church, that’s the Jekyll in me” are trademark Malice, who has always been the more critical voice on the illicit past their famous for.
Pharrell shines the brightest on the next track, “So Be It,” with a warped sample from a 70s Arabic song that comes together to sound like if David Lynch produced a Clipse track.
Pharrell also excels on “So Far Ahead,” moving from an angelic chorus into a hard trap beat that retains his unmistakable touch. All of this is under two of the best rap verses of the year, with bars like “If I was Brittney Griner, I’ma need Obama/Only one to swap is Chapo” and the triple entendre “No mistaking me for the reverend/Ushering the money, my confession.”
Tracks like “M.T.B.T.T.F.” (Mike Tyson Blow to the Face) and “F.I.C.O.” are testaments to just how technically perfect Clipse can get while staying within the constraints of talking about their past. Their signature swagger is fully intact, and the duo’s ability to reinvent it for more than 22 years proves just how deep their skills run. Now in their 50s, they’re self-aware enough to know that rapping about what they did in their 20s would become stale and inauthentic fast, so they twist it into something new every time.
Ultimately, “Let God Sort Em Out” earns my vote for album of the year not by chasing trends or reinventing hip-hop, but by mastering it at the highest possible level. Every track is cut to the bone, concise, intentional and packed with the kind of detail and wit that requires a deep dive on every second of its run time. Clipse manages to tap into the energy of their early work without ever sounding like they are rehashing it; instead, they push their signature sound into the modern era. Pharrell’s production is blisteringly sharp, the verses are immaculate across the board, and the brothers’ chemistry is as deep as it was two decades ago. Few albums today are this pure in their execution and this daring in their restraint, and even fewer feel this complete. This is hip-hop distilled to its core, and that’s why nothing else this year comes close.
Honorable Mentions: “Getting Killed” by Geese, “Lux” by Rosalia and “Revengeseekerz” by Jane Remover and “GOLLIWOG” by Billy Woods
Best Song: “The Birds Don’t Sing”
Worst Song: “All Things Considered”
Overall Rating: 9.6/10
