Clipse : Let God Sort Em Out
Virginia Beach legends and coke rap gods Clipse have re-upped. The brothers Thornton return, after a 16 year hiatus, to blanket the streets in powder and lay claim to one of the strongest albums of 2025. It’s been almost two decades since their last shipment, Til the Casket Drops, which came out in 2009. But their long-awaited return, Let God Sort Em Out, doesn’t betray their absence. Pusha T’s back-to-back solo projects Daytona and It’s Almost Dry have kept him in blue ribbon form, while Malice, who stepped away from the duo in 2010, must’ve been writing raps on the sly during his sabbatical, as he delivers some of his best stanzas to date.
An effort of sheer menace, Let God Sort Em Out offers detours that demonstrate their range, as posh braggadocio, family and kingpin victories are in play too. Produced in full by Pharrell (“ain’t no more Neptunes, so P’s Saturn”), it knocks with a frigid thump—a kind of icy cool hip-hop noir. Indeed, this music hits hardest with the lights off, perfect for midnight drives and woofing car speakers. There’s death meditation from the jump, heavy at the git-go, as the album’s opener “The Birds Don’t Sing” has the two dedicating a verse each to their parents who passed away within four months of each other. “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 momma, I guess I should’ve known/ chivalry ain’t dead, you ain’t let her go alone,” raps Malice in not only one of his most brilliant moments on record, but also one of his most genuine, articulating vulnerability and loss—the dope man is human too.
However, that heartfelt sincerity doesn’t last long as it’s right back to bruising egos via “Chains & Whips.” The moderate tempo is an ideal backdrop for Pusha T’s jabs, “you’d think it’d be valor amongst veterans/ I’m watching your fame escape relevance,” before Kendrick Lamar’s monster cameo and titanic claim, “hip-hop died again.” Tyler, the Creator, John Legend, The Dream, Nas and even their former Re:Up Gang wingman, Ab-Liva, all contribute red-hot features. But none upstage the host emcees, their chemistry bound by blood—a tag-team routine seamlessly blending one voice into the other.
Wonder Twins powers aside, there’s a lazy temptation to dismiss the Clipse as one dimensional, a group that’s only effective when the topic is cocaine. But that’s a surface level critique, an easy way to brush aside their prowess. These are grade-A lyricists, decades deep, with legitimate classics in their catalog—throw “Grindin” on the aux and watch what happens. The internet dubbed them a living version of the Smokestack Twins—VA’s Thornton siblings bully footing through rap’s current landscape. And that might be true. But in addition to their intimidating swagger and domineering pens there’s a level of sophistication they bring to the genre. From the rollout of this album to the visuals that accompany it, they’re providing a blueprint—fly is as fly does. All things considered, Let God Sort Em Out could conceivably be their finest outing, a kin reunion set to music. An entry into hip-hop’s elite album canon, trafficking in quality and ascetics. Industry underdogs, back at it with an epic, hitting harder than a Mike Tyson blow to the face.
Label: Roc Nation
Year: 2025
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Clipse : Let God Sort Em Out
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