It’s easy to imagine a middle-aged Lil Yachty accepting some kind of lifetime achievement award in the not-so-distant future. The Atlanta-born MC entered the rap game at the ripe age of 18, introducing the then-ascendant genre of “mumble rap” to the mainstream. It didn’t come without its fair share of detractors, but over the course of the past decade, Yachty has proven more steadfast in his creative vision than most, releasing an album of psychedelic rock as a follow-up to a formidable mixtape honoring the talents of Detroit’s vibrant rap scene. More than just a diligent MC focused on getting better, Yachty is one of hip-hop’s foremost nurturers of talent, known to create opportunities for up-and-comers just getting their start. In many ways, Yachty represents the collaborative spirit of hip-hop in the internet age: -endlessly curious and open to trying new things. His efforts haven’t always been understood. His announcement that he was more than just a rapper ahead of his recent album Let’s Start Here was met with criticism from some who saw it as turning his back on the genre. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. “I’m not speaking on all SoundCloud rappers. I’m speaking on me. This is for me, because everybody don’t have that work ethic,” he told Rolling Stone earlier this year. “Everyone ain’t going to put the hours in to understand a new genre and how to execute something the right way.” —J.I.

When you think of what it feels like to be young in the 2020s, it’s hard not to conjure an image of a scene from a Bktherula video. Girls doing kick flips, fluorescent hair colors, impeccably baggy jeans. All set to spaced-out synths perfect for tripping mushrooms in a field. In other words, Bktherula feels “right now” because she is. She first rose to prominence with the 2020 single “Tweakin’ Together,” which had the ethereal, in-the-cosmos sound of internet-born subgenres like cloud rap, except with a trap-inspired cadence delivered with the confidence of a hip-hop prodigy. The song’s chorus (“And I know these niggas mad as fuck/Bitch I’m in the trap, with TM we throw it up”) landed on SoundCloud like a missile, racking up more than 100,000 plays in its first month. Bktherula says “Tweakin’ Together” is “a love song,” which fits the track’s playfully sentimental ethos, “That nigga just like me, I ain’t know I had a tether,” she sings. The song, produced by Mars Beats, started as an instrumental titled “Nine9 x Duwap Kaine Type Beat 2019 — ‘Questions,’” which speaks to the track’s roots in the online underground.Born Brooklyn Candida Rodriguez in Atlanta, 21-year-old Bktherula personifies a generation of musicians who can tap into varied sounds and disciplines with ease. This year, she dropped her mixtape, LVL5 P1, which sounds like a distillation of the genre-flipping spirit you’d expect from an internet native. While rappers like Playboi Carti and Lil Uzi Vert deserve credit for bringing the melodic flourishes of rock and hardcore to the realm of hip-hop, Bktherula seems to embody the genres inherently. “We Made It,” featuring fellow rap-rocker Rico Nasty, rides glittering synths that build into an explosion of bass and chaos that sounds like a genre unto itself, a fusion of the freewheeling mosh pit and the smooth groove of an R&B hit. She followed up LVL5 P1 with a record of acoustic takes on several of her hits, Love Nirvana (Acoustic), which offers more proof of Bktherula’s versatility. Those renditions are constructed with a ground-level understanding of the sound of hip-hop, as opposed to landing like the often-clunky YouTube-creator remixes of popular rap songs. Fitting, given how much of a bona fide rock star she is. —J.I.

“I don’t know what it is, but I feel like we got the sound that everybody wants right now. Not necessarily me, or somebody in particular, but just the state of Michigan as a whole,” BabyTron told Rolling Stone in 2021. Over the years, he’s become the Pied Piper of Michigan rap — the regional style of intense punchlines and goofy music videos. The internet adores his elastic flow and penchant for lyrical agility; real heads connect with Tron’s ability to rap about whatever is in his head — the NBA, video games, weed — and still be humorous while doing so. If Babyface Ray and Veeze are the critically acclaimed rappers from Detroit, the ones who craft albums crisply and efficiently, then Tron is the city’s king of the internet. (Though he’d probably prefer a basketball metaphor.)Tron is known to treat his raps something like a sport, opting to rhyme over complex, often multipart beats. On one end, you could say he’s pushing boundaries in the genre, except it’s hard to imagine anyone else rapping on the type of production he chooses. “You could have a person who only raps on some evil beats from Detroit. And then you got me, who does the funky techno stuff,” he said. “It’s just different bags out here.” This spring, he dropped “100 Bars,” a gauntlet of lyrical agility in which he rapped his way to the number 100.Despite the viral antics, BabyTron takes rap as seriously as it can be taken. “I’m doing it every day. So it is definitely like the gym. Basketball, mic, booth. Same thing,” he said. “I keep trying to make my punchlines more and more crazy, [add] more bits and pieces. Maybe it’s four things that all go together in one line. That’s all I be trying to do.” YouTube is where he is most effective, as he continues churning out songs that function as loosies, or albums that are sequenced like more mercurial mixtapes from the blog-rap era. Tron has also recently started to lean into his natural goofiness. When he is focused, he’s someone who not only is good at rapping, but also sounds like he flat-out loves to rap. —J.B.

As much of the domestic buzz on U.K. rap has focused on the drill scene, Little Simz has been steadily building a stellar catalog. The Islington, London-born rapper has become renowned for albums meshing elements of grime, R&B, electronic music, and whatever other genre she and frequent collaborator Inflo deem a fitting soundscape for her diaristic, probing lyricism. Simz dropped Stratosphere, her first mixtape, in 2010. Her album Grey Area was a finalist for the 2019 Mercury Prize. In 2022, she broke through and won the honor with Sometimes I Might Be Introvert, her fourth studio album, with gems just as capable of radiating effortless cool and charisma as she is of existential urgency. —A.G.

2021’s “Don’t Play With It,” by Brooklyn-bred rapper Lola Brooke, bursts with an easy bravado inherent to the young star’s hometown. Nevertheless, the track garnered a delayed reaction, only becoming an inescapable hit, first on TikTok, earlier this year. The same could be said for Brooke, who spent close to a decade putting in the work in the same Brooklyn rap community that birthed greats like Pop Smoke. But hard work isn’t a problem for the 29-year-old MC, who, since achieving viral success, immediately hit the pavement with a bevy of formidable features — like on Flo Milli’s “Conceited” and a legendary linkup with Ciara on “Da Girls,” both tracks from earlier this year that show off Brooke’s guttural, syrup-thick delivery. She performed at this year’s Summer Jam, a set complete with choreography she learned with the help of Teyana Taylor. After all, rap is nothing if not collaborative, and Brooke belongs to a rising generation of rappers who understand what it means to be talented and humble.In the span of one year, Brooke went from citing Meek Mill as a major influence on her music to having Mill tease a collaboration between the two. Despite the long gestation period for the success of “Don’t Play With It,” Brooke was diligent in its promotion, releasing a string of remixes that capitalized on the song’s internet explosion. Her upcoming full-length is one of the year’s most hotly anticipated new releases, and she has already shown glimmers of a groundswell of skill on April’s “Just Relax,” which flips a sample of “The Choice Is Yours,” by New York’s own Black Sheep, with a kind of localized flair and reverence that sets the song apart from her contemporaries’ endeavors in classic hip-hop references. It’s why Brooke is almost certain to make the kind of impact on her borough that the late Pop Smoke made. There’s simply not an ounce of fakery in her grind. —J.I.

New York producer EvilGiane may be most known for producing Baby Keem and Kendrick Lamar’s “The Hillbillies” and A$AP Rocky and Playboi Carti’s “Our Destiny,” but he made it clear to us that he’s not just a sample drill producer. “I’m not going to stop making drill music, but I’m not a drill producer. I have music with so many different artists and so many different genres.” He described himself to us as “a troll” because of his willingness to sample almost anything and flip it into hip-hop, trance, or whatever other sound he chooses to explore. Giane has no bounds, and that artistic avarice has made him a key component of Surf Gang, a New York-based collective of producers and artists creating some of the most compelling music in the city. Like a true maestro, Giane was the mutual link of the first iteration of Surf Gang’s first chapter, making connections with rappers and producers he crossed paths with on the scene. But several of those rappers left the crew over time, which resulted in Surf Gang evolving into a creative agency and label with artists such as Snow Strippers. “Now it’s more like a world, I feel like,” Giane says of Surf Gang. “It’s not just a bunch of people making music together.”Giane was seemingly born into music. He recalls being in a car seat while his songwriter mother and producer father worked in the studio. Eventually, his time in the family business came to pass when he started making beats on his phone, and a friend taught him how to use Ableton. At the time, music was just one of his endeavors, alongside modeling and skating. “When you skate, you see everything as an obstacle. I took that viewpoint and put it in the beats,” he told us.It doesn’t seem like anything is obstructing his artistry these days. He’s gaining more notoriety as a producer, recently sending beats to Drake and telling us he has other impending placements he can’t speak on yet. In July, he dropped FAST 5 with Florida rapper 454. He’s also working on a compilation tape with several of his rap peers as well as an ambient album.

Baby Tate’s breakthrough single “I Am” gave rise to the pandemic’s most viral affirmation. TikToks and Instagram videos featuring the song’s opening credo — “I am healthy, I am wealthy, I am rich, I am that bitch” — inundated feeds as global lockdowns inspired everything but positivity. Selfie camera meditations to the track started jumping the world over. Back then, she still went by Yung Baby Tate, a moniker she’s since shortened, perhaps inadvertently signaling her music’s maturity over the years. She told Rolling Stone in 2021 that for her forthcoming projects she was planning on “going way more into an R&B space, which I’ve been kind of hinting at for a long time. You know, I’m not just a rapper. I’m an artist.” Since then, she’s had breakout success with her Warner debut, Mani/Pedi, from last year, a rousing statement from an artist entering her element. Born Tate Sequoya Farris in Georgia, Baby Tate was raised by a single mother who was also a musician, and you can hear both her fierce sense of independence and reverence for women in the rap community in her music. —J.I.

There is an uneasy pendulum of emotions when it comes to the violence in the communities where hip-hop flourishes, especially in the internet era. Though violence and its wretched association with Black youth has always been a discussion in the genre — the Nineties saw the rise of gangsta rap, and the deaths of Biggie and Tupac; the aughts brought concerns of music glamorizing the drug trade — today’s young people, faced with the same circumstances endemic to America’s underserved communities, have grown uniquely warped by the hyperspeed contours of social media. Perhaps no other rapper personifies that quite like Harlem drill star DD Osama. The 16-year-old has star power as large as the island of Manhattan is long. He rose to prominence alongside his brother Notti Osama, who was tragically killed in an altercation with a rival crew last year. This being the era of TikTok, Notti’s death was immortalized in a viral dance originated by the group responsible for his death, spawning a craze that spanned far beyond New York. If the origin story seems dramatic, it’s because it is. DD quickly became the frontman for the drill boom in New York, as his releases ooze the raw trauma of losing his cousin at such a young age. In some ways, DD is a symbol of the kind of fame characteristic of his generation. He was thrust into stardom by way of personal grief, a familiar condition in 2023.At 16, there’s clear development to be had, but Osama’s ability to wrangle pain and virality with an undeniable bravado is a sign of the resilience of talent in the current generation. Throughout his releases, you get a sense that Osama would have found fame regardless; “Who I Am” has glimmers of a crossover hit, and “Let’s Do It” has a chaotic swagger reminiscent of the old Chief Keef videos. His debut mixtape, Here 2 Stay, from earlier this year, is equal parts vulnerable and pugnacious, as the young MC finds his footing in the rap world while grieving the tragic loss of his cousin. For his part, Osama is comfortable in the limelight, already a magnet for collaborations among other rappers in his cohort, like NLE Choppa, who appears on “Let’s Do It,” as well as the 17-year-old phenom Luh Tyler, who Osama recently teased a collaboration with. Questions still linger about how prevalent a role gang violence plays in Osama’s and other prominent drill artists’ music. But Osama is unquestionably gifted in a world that increasingly seems built for maximum reaction. If anyone’s going to be capable of navigating such an environment, it’s him. Osama either inspires or revolts; either way, you wouldn’t want to miss out on what he does next. —J.B.

We live in an increasingly ephemeral world, where it’s easy to chalk up viral success to the fleeting nature of social media feeds. And yet, Ice Spice endures. A year after her viral hit “Munch” took over the globe, the Bronx native has managed to keep the world’s attention. Her debut EP, Like…?, offered a framework for a different kind of rap star, one steeped in the snippet-driven ecosystem most young people engage with online, while retaining the bravado and with that built New York rap heavyweights like Cam’Ron. Taylor Swift was smart enough to connect with the 23-year-old for a remix of “Karma,” and Ice Spice counts Drake as a mentor. Maybe that’s why Ice Spice, despite having released only a handful of songs, is such a force in the rap world. Beyond making bops, she’s articulating a relationship to fame and social media that is decidedly Gen Z. It’s OK if you don’t get it, but don’t expect her to be going away anytime soon. —J.I.

The rapper 454 offsets his spaced-out production, replete with shimmering synths and rowdy breakbeats, with a flow that’s full of real emotion. His debut, 4 Real, arrived in March 2021 as a fully realized vision of an artist with a clear point of view. On the standout track “Andretti,” he’s effortlessly clever, delivering thoughtful bars with philosophical detachment: “Polo from the old age, feds know that it’s no case/We sped like road rage, new puffer for cold days,” he raps. Born Willie Wilson in a suburb of Orlando, 454 has garnered a robust fan base, at one point earning a spot on Frank Ocean’s Blonded Radio. Earlier this year, he collaborated with in-demand New York producer Evilgiane for Fast 5, a stripped-down and emotive take on the textured sounds that have made him one of this generation’s brightest stars. —J.I.

U.K. rap phenom Central Cee has certainly kept busy over the past few years. He dropped his second mixtape, 23, last February, which debuted at the top of the U.K. charts, and he’s quickly becoming the face of London’s resilient drill scene as the Chicago-born sound makes its way around the rap diaspora. Born Oakley Neil H.T Caesar-Su, Central Cee grew up in the West London neighborhood of Shepherd’s Bush, an area that’s integral to the current wave of U.K. drill, a scene that has been on the rise since the 2010s. It’s also a region with one of the highest rates of violent crime in the city. Cee’s raps have a calm and collected cool about them, but underneath, you get the sense there’s a more deeply rooted feeling. Since dropping 23, he’s gone on to release the mega-viral hit “Doja,” capitalizing on the hook-driven machinations of TikTok’s For You page. The song got so popular, with its infectious hook, that eventually Doja Cat herself caught wind, popping up in Central Cee’s comment sections joking about a reference to her on the track.That’s not the only high-profile connection the now-25-year-old MC has garnered recently. After linking up with fellow U.K. rap heavyweight Dave for the joint EP Split Decision, featuring the crossover hit single “Sprinter,” Central Cee connected with noted U.K.-rap fan Drake for a universally acclaimed On the Radar Freestyle. It was his first stop on the road to eventually becoming a household name in the States. It doesn’t hurt that his On the Radar appearance with Drizzy found both rappers firmly in their comfort zones, delivering some of the best verses in the segment’s storied history. Cench, as Central Cee is colloquially known, did more than just keep his own alongside a veteran; the freestyle could easily make for a hit single on a project from either rapper. It’s been a long time coming, but rappers from across the pond are finally becoming a major part of the hip-hop tapestry, and Central Cee is sure to go down as one of the most essential crossovers. “The music is just how I feel. It’s just like a page in my diary,” he told Rolling Stone last year. —J.I.

Recently, at a packed show in Brooklyn’s Herbert Von King Park, MIKE, 24, hosted his third-annual Young World Festival, a celebration of the borough’s vibrant underground rap movement. The rapper and producer is based out of Brooklyn and has been sharing music on Bandcamp since 2015. He’s toured with acts like Freddie Gibbs and Earl Sweatshirt. MIKE’s serene raps feel like a live broadcast from his spirit, and he’s bubbling into the mainstream with a rising generation of young fans. As a producer, he wrangles samples and textures from disparate corners of music and sensation. On his latest album, Beware of the Monkey, he balances emotional resonance with calm, soulful production. MIKE has a penchant for emotive, sparse storytelling. “I always thought about artists who have the ability to create their own world and build that from scratch or from nothing,” he told Rolling Stone on the eve of last year’s Young World Festival. “When I think about basically all the artists that are on the bill, it’s people that have created those types of worlds with music and shit, at least to me.” MIKE’s innate sense of intimacy with his fan base is part of an increasingly potent form of audience building among the current generation of rappers, eschewing the trappings of hyper exposure to creating something closer to community on the ground. Beyond being one of his generation’s most exciting voices, MIKE is laying the foundation for the future. —J.I.

Cash Cobain began teaching himself to make beats on Fruity Loops, finding his niche with FL 11. The Bronx-born artist didn’t know music theory, so he immediately started sampling — his first flip was a Whitney Houston song, though he doesn’t remember which. From then on, the 25-year-old rapper-producer started submerging anything from the Moesha theme (on “Hoeisha”) to Tame Impala (on Lil Yachty and Mak Sauce’s “Wocky My Lover”) under filters and slick drum programming. Cash’s production style was influenced by his time in the Jersey Club scene, where frantic drums and outrageous samples conquer all. He has boatloads of producer placements, but the sounds he’s deemed “sexy drill” and “Slizzy” feel reserved for him and his partner Chow Lee, who Cash released 2 Slizzy 2 Sexy with last year. The Slizzy sound is exemplified by the appropriately-named “Slizzy Talk,” a July track colored with twirling synths and a gentle backing melody laying atop an 808 drum flirting with Richter scale detection. He raps with a quintessential New York cool, chaining together raunchy, melodic lines and adding a dash of autotune over his already hazy vocals. The single is from his Pretty Girls Love Slizzy album, which will be the first release since his partnership with Giant Music in June. Cash told us that he hopes his recent signing will “[put] me in a position to do something more for other people,” including those on his Slizzy Entertainment label. He’s already doing plenty, but the “big, big, big” collaborations he promises are in the works will likely make his future even brighter.— A.G

TisaKorean started out as a dancer and a DJ, and says he only started making music because he wanted a soundtrack to match his style. His brand of rap, not unlike Lil B or ILoveMakonnen, can best be described as silly, which is the attitude he’d like to engender in his fans. On TikTok, Tisa’s dance videos rack up millions of views, thanks to the ways they remind you of how fun hip-hop can be. In 2021, he told Rolling Stone about his fondest musical memory, a collapse of generation and genre courtesy of Pharrell Williams and Jay-Z: “When I seen the ‘Frontin’ ’ video, I didn’t know about Prince, honestly,” Tisa explains of the Williams and N.E.R.D. hit. “So when I seen that ‘Frontin’ ’ video, I didn’t know that song was made for Prince.” The rap game will always need its lighthearted, playful spirit, and TisaKorean is a perfect example of an artist who taps into that sensibility naturally. —J.I.

Mavi ponders the permutations of existence like a great philosopher — except Aristotle probably didn’t have the same knack for melodizing his observations. The Charlotte, North Carolina-raised Mavi pursued both a rap career and a neuroscience degree at Howard University before releasing his brilliant breakout, Let the Sun Talk, in 2019. On last year’s Laughing so Hard, it Hurts, he combed through the grief that engulfed him over the pandemic. “I lost some fear along the way of what it would mean for me to say truly how I feel,” he told Rolling Stone last year. The world’s better for his courage. —A.G.

Blaqbonez has been declaring himself the “best rapper in Africa” for nearly as long as he’s been rapping publicly. The 27-year-old Nigerian got his start as a teen battle rapper in his native country and went on to release his debut in 2021, Sex Over Love, one of the best albums of that year anywhere. We’re not weighing in on that Best Rapper in Africa title, but Blaqbonez’s willingness to declare it, his unflinching drive to live up to it, and the skill of his execution — be it in the blazing in booth or cracking jokes on social media — is why we’re not mad at it. —M.C.

The smacking percussion of Zack Fox’s “Jesus Is the One (I Got Depression),” the electric-guitar cyclone funneling through Rico Nasty’s “Rage”, the thumping hydraulic rhythms of Vince Staples’ “Outside”–they’re all manifestations of Kenny Beats’ distinctly quirky sensibility. The producer’s growing catalog is full of odd flavors. Whether it’s dreamy study beats from his Louie album, or full-length collaborations like Denzel Curry’s Unlocked. Still, they all feel like part of a singular persona. A Kenny Beats track sounds recognizable, even as he prepares his audience to expect the unexpected. Many of those fans congregate around his sundry online outlets, from YouTube series The Cave to his Twitch stream and Discord servers, where he dispenses technical advice, drops exclusives, and encourages newbie beatmakers. “If you’re an artist and not fostering that community, I’m just wondering what you’re really getting back from that time spent on TikTok or one of these other apps,” Kenny Beats told Rolling Stone earlier this year. More than just a superior internet hustle, though, he feeds his internet peeps with unusual styles that fit into a harmonious whole. —M.R.