When you first heard this song, it felt like the second coming. Pusha T had hit his lyrical zenith on Hell Hath No Fury, but after losing a step with Til the Casket Drops, going solo, and hooking up with Kanye West and G.O.O.D. Music, he had to show and prove. The marching band snare and blaring horns set the stage for King Push to deliver that raw in an era when rap had suddenly gotten too emotional.
His bars were launched with such startling conviction, like a man possessed by the same voodoo he used to pen his words. "To me it's one of those rapper's rapper-type of records," he told Complex, shortly after the song first dropped. "Sonically, it has the sound that keeps you interested, but it still gives you that flat canvas that you can just black out on, as an artist." Blackout he did.
He not only touched on his personal tribulations (rhyming without his brother Malice, trying to deliver hardcore material for his hardcore audience) but classic dealer dilemmas like buying fancy cars with no credit. You can put down Pusha by saying all he does is rap about coke, just don't tell us he doesn't do it damn well. —Insanul Ahmed