In the past few years, Kendrick Lamar has had a meteoric rise to prominence. After releasing his 2010 mixtape Overly Dedicated and his 2011 album Section.80, which received widespread critical acclaim, the resulting attention landed him a deal with Interscope Records and Aftermath Entertainment. The hype has definitely been building in anticipation of his newest LP, good kid, m.A.A.d city. But too much hype can be a dangerous thing. Thankfully, with good kid, m.A.A.d city, Kendrick Lamar delivers one of the finest rap albums in recent memory.

It’s difficult to pin down m.A.A.d city as a specific type of hip-hop, and really, it’s not fair to the album’s ingenuity and scope. Here, Lamar seamlessly blends influences and styles, ranging from 90s-era R&B to the hazy rap perfected by artists such as Clams Casino and A$AP Rocky. Lamar chose his producers wisely and brought in everyone from Pharrell to Just Blaze to T-Minus, who produced tracks off of Drake’s widely acclaimed album Take Care.

Every track on this album soars with passion and energy, ranging from the Pharrell-produced “good kid,” which has a muffled, mysterious funk undertone, to “Swimming Pools (Drank),” a track filled with infectious hooks and flaring snares.  It’s some of the strongest and most varied production in the past few years, and it’s part of what makes good kid, m.A.A.d city so compelling.

However, good kid, m.A.A.d city really shines in Lamar’s kinetic, nasal lyrics and in the sparse guest appearances from artists like Drake, Jay Rock, and Dr. Dre throughout the album. His flow is malleable and versatile, as he worked with the production to build rich, powerful tracks. For every up-tempo, “swift m.A.A.d city,” there’s a slowed, mellow “Sherane a.k.a Master Splinter’s Daughter.” If nothing else, good kid, m.A.A.d city shows that, whichever direction Kendrick chooses to take his career in the future, he’ll most certainly thrive.

With this vocal variation comes emotional and complex lyrics that range from unabashed party rap to repentant musings about one-night stands. “Backseat Freestyle” is braggadocio taken to the maximum, with Kendrick proclaiming “My mind is living on cloud 9 and this 9 is never on vacation.” On “Sing About Me, I’m Dying of Thirst,” he goes in the opposite direction and contemplates  his own past and struggles by saying, “Maybe cause I’m a dreamer and sleep is the cousin of death/Really stuck in the scheme of, wonder when I’mma rest.” Part of the album’s great strength comes from Lamar’s ability to traverse emotional planes, whether he’s being romantic, contemplative, or overconfident.

With good kid, m.A.A.d city, Kendrick Lamar truly defies expectations. It’s not to say that expectations were bad, but the defiance speaks more to the album’s incredible depth and virtuosity. It’s a clear contender for the year’s best album, and a shoe-in for the year’s best rap album. No one this year—or in a number of years for that matter—has made a rap album this powerful, which puts Kendrick Lamar at the top of the pack.