How far does the ceiling reach for Gunna? The Atlanta rapper’s experienced a resurrection of a career that, in most other cases, would’ve ended in either outcome of the YSL RICO case: stay down with the team and take it to trial, as he once rapped alongside Young Thug, or cop a plea that would compromise his integrity and leave him labeled a rat. As much as the latter became the narrative in certain circles, it became increasingly obvious that he figured out how to drown out the noise. He lost respect in some corners, becoming a punchline in street rap akin to Tekashi 6ix9ine when betrayal and loyalty are in question. But street codes apply to the streets, and Gunna’s been moving like someone uninterested in preserving the narrative that first catapulted him to fame. He’s beaten snitching allegations before, so this new phase of his career feels less surprising than it does overdue.
As much as he’s floated through the industry post-incarceration relatively unscathed—save for a few shots from Young Thug and peers—the business side loomed over him. The Last Wun, his third album since release and first since Young Thug’s, seemingly resolves this as it reportedly marks his final album under YSL. Though still backed by a major label, his pull within hip-hop has been limited. Without Thug, Lil Baby, Future, or Drake, he’s had to rebuild from the ground up—leaning on the same foundation that made his sticky melodies and sing-song murmurs gospel for all things fly. Turbo’s hand in most of the 25-song tracklist roots Gunna in the very sound that made him thrive in streaming, proving the lane he began carving under Thug’s wing has only widened.
The lack of street-centric content has aided his return, especially as he’s distanced himself from those narratives. It would’ve been easy—and disastrous—to try to reassert street credibility. Instead, he understands that the current hip-hop demographic consuming his music likely cares less about what he says and more about how he makes them feel. There’s defiance on the plaintive “many nights,” where he weighs rebuilding what he lost during the YSL trial against fractured loyalty. But these themes are more foundational to sharper records like “just say dat,” where he fires back at rappers who discounted him, or “biting my game,” a classic Gunna glide over woozy steel-string guitar, pairing Maybach pillows and chinchilla rugs with $100 million ambitions and haters in the rearview.
For every shot at detractors, The Last Wun also plays like a victory lap. On “at my purest,” he and Offset toast European luxuries and real estate over crystal-clear production; “sakpase” compares a yacht’s drift to his Wraith over glossy textures. These moments feel bigger than industry attempts to blackball him—helped by a fanbase that leans heavily female. “gp” keeps his hedonistic flexes and “pushin p” ethos intact.
Perhaps most telling, Gunna’s accepted that the hitmakers once in his corner are gone. Outside of Offset, the only rap feature comes from YSL signee Nechie on “i can’t feel my face.” Instead, he’s burrowed into an international pocket. Burna Boy’s verse on “wgft” drapes moody sensuality over the beat; WizKid’s “forever be mine” blends seamlessly with Gunna’s romance-heavy mode. Not all crossovers land—Asake’s “satisfaction” layers tribal choirs in ways that feel outside Gunna’s lane—but they work more often than not.
Still, the album isn’t all bottle service and passport stamps. “made for this sh*t” traces purpose through Atlanta come-up to global rap star, even at the cost of his mentor’s tutelage. “cfwm” sees him swatting away doubters, with what sounds like a subtle jab at Thug. Here, pain, betrayal, and false narratives fade in favor of his own peace.
At 25 songs and over an hour long, The Last Wun can feel overextended. Gunna’s music works as ambient luxury—easy to let play without much thought—which has been both his gift and limitation. There’s little growth beyond his well-worn strengths, even if his personal life has evolved.
In three post-release albums, Gunna’s proven he hasn’t lost his footing. He’s not trying to win back naysayers—only to fuel his base. Internationally, where street codes carry less weight, he has the room to pivot. But the lingering question is how long he can repackage the same flexes, the same stories, before the audience demands more.
