If you’ve gone outside in Los Angeles County since November 8, you’ve heard “FDT.” YG and Nipsey Hussle’s skeletal protest song—the one that made the Secret Service come knocking all the way back in April—had a brief run during the primaries, but became an anthem shortly after the election was called for The Donald. “I like white folks, but I don’t like you”: Within 24 hours of the election results, there were effigies burning at City Hall and protesters choking off the 110. “I’m ‘bout to turn Black Panther”; across Temple and down Figueroa, through South Central and over to the Beaches, the song rattled from Priuses and pickup trucks and seventh-story windows. “And if your ass do win, you gon’ probably get smoked.”
The overtly political is nothing new for YG. He’s been handing out groceries and school supplies with Compton mayor Aja Brown; he ended his sophomore album, Still Brazy with a three-song suite that tackled gross, race-based injustice. The first was “FDT,” but the next two (“Blacks and Brown” and “Police Get Away Wit Murder”) take aim at a state that can be murderous no matter who’s at the helm. And so with Red Friday, the new seven-song EP dropped on short notice, YG is back on the throttle, rushing ahead, nearly unbothered.
Red Friday finds him darting across the Pro Tools sessions, more nimble than he’s ever been before. Sonic landmarks of L.A. rap come and go over the course of the record, but the tempo is constantly being pushed. Some of that comes courtesy of DJ Mustard, YG’s longtime creative partner who was completely absent from Still Brazy after the two had a personal falling out. “Get Out Yo Feelin’s” in particular is a testament to their rediscovered chemistry: Mustard’s eerie undertones and breathless drums make YG and RJ’s wisecracks from the club sounds sinister, even unhinged. And “Down Bitch,” which should be a pretty rote song about loyal girlfriends, comes out sounding like a Christmas carol that took too much ketamine.
There’s no songwriting on Red Friday as instantly quotable as “Twist My Fingaz” or as sneakily brilliant as “Bool, Balm, & Bollective,” but what YG ends up rapping is tight and economical—and occasionally vivid. “I Be On,” an unfeeling rebuff to main girls and side girls alike is delivered gleefully, then qualified by acknowledging the drink in his hand. On “I Know,” he opens his verse with a three-bar riff on Houston one-hit wonder Mike Jones’ existence, then doubles down on his taunts to those rappers who need handholding to make the transition from grassroots fame to national stardom.
But without question, the crown jewel of Red Friday is “One Time Comin’,” a frenzied blur of guns and paranoia. YG gets pulled over by a police officer, presumably because someone with his complexion shouldn’t be driving a Maybach; his mind darts to the last moments he was able to spend with his baby daughter. It ends with a bridge that couldn’t be more unambiguous, a complete rebuke of the Los Angeles Police Department and those who support it. That YG decided to deliver it over such an urgent beat—and on such short notice that his label might have fumbled the release—is simply a nod to the days we live in. There’s not much time to waste.