The blistering ascent of Asake from the moment he got signed to Olamide’s imprint, YBNL, in 2022, to this present moment is nothing short of a generational statement. In the space of four years, with three critically acclaimed albums—Mr. Money with the Vibe (2022), Work of Art (2023), and Lungu Boy (2024)—under his belt, he has operated on a different stratospheric height, doing so with authenticity and deliberate image-building that sets him apart from his contemporaries.
After the release of his third album, Lungu Boy, conversations stirred around how distinctly it departed from his first two bodies of work, which are defined by the heavy imprint of Fuji music on his songwriting, the infectious swell of choral backing vocals, and the coded street slangs that made those projects so viscerally captivating.
Before the release of his fourth album, M$NEY, under his new independent imprint, Giran Republic, Asake had been orchestrating a series of deliberate branding theatrics, popularly dubbed “gimmicks” in online discourse. First came the “Military” era, which saw him draped in camo-heavy styling and dropping the aptly titled “Military” in early 2025 as a sonic breadcrumb into a new chapter, while rotating haircuts kept the aesthetic conversation alive and, in a way, signaled a restless visual reinvention.
With the release of “Why Love,” his collaboration with Tiakola on “Badman Gangster,” and the ethereal performance of “Worship” at the Red Bull Symphonic, anticipation for M$NEY reached a fever pitch.
Nothing about the intro track carries the same arresting dexterity that kickstarts his previous albums. Though rooted in isiZulu chants—a long, high-pitched, ululating vocal trill—it lacks the magnetic gravitational pull his intros have historically commanded. Yet it is not without purpose; it lays a reverent foundation for the spiritual undertow of the pre-released “Worship” featuring DJ Snake, positioning Asake firmly in a posture of devotion. This is Asake in full surrender to gratitude. “Alhamdulillah / Praise be to God, no matter your condition / Stay close to God,” he croons on the chorus.
Spirituality has always been a defining undercurrent in Asake’s music, a recurring motif that allows him to tap into something deeper. It is a sensibility that continues on the log-drum-driven “Gratitude,” where he reflects he sings, “Even Jesus Christ the Lord, dem nail am for cross.”
On the Magicsticks-produced “Rora,” shimmering shakers and a breezy saxophone line glide over a nimble, techno-leaning EDM beat. It is immediately arresting in sound, but beneath its glossy surface, the songwriting feels sparse, leaving the thrilling saxophone passages to do most of the heavy lifting.
That same looseness in writing carries into the log-drum-driven “Amen.” Still, here, Asake aligns more clearly with the album’s thematic core, laying out his fixation on wealth and ambition: “Making money is my job / Networking and building, I dey focused / No be bad thing if I make billions / Billion dollars, no be bad thing if I make zillions.” It is straightforward and clear, aligning with the album’s focus on wealth.
The Blaisebeatz-produced “Wa” leans into groove, its lush violin strains weaving through punchy log-drum kicks to create a rich, danceable texture. On “MCBH” (“Money Can’t Buy Happiness”), Asake returns to more familiar terrain with his elastic flows, coded slang, and rhythmic cadences layered over sweeping violin arrangements and anchored by a captivating hook and a soaring female vocal that adds emotional lift.
The pre-released “Why Love?” is a soft tribute to women while “Forgiveness” sees him turn inward, seeking absolution and signaling a desire for change: “Forgiveness, forgiveness / Father, forgive me for the bad, bad things wey I don do, do.”
“Oba” opens with a grippy bass guitar and the soothing ambience of flowing water, which sets a reflective mood. Its jazzy, groovy palette is inviting, but again, the songwriting does not quite rise to match the richness of its production. On “Badman Gangster,” Tiakola delivers a standout verse that lifts the track’s overall appeal.
The album’s energy lifts on “Asambe,” a lively house record featuring Kabza De Small. Bright guitar strings glide over propulsive log drums, creating a kinetic, club-ready atmosphere. Asake leans fully into indulgence, focusing on women, pleasure, and excess with a carefree ease.
That hedonistic theme carries into the closing track, “Skilful,” which extends the sonic palette of “Asambe.” With similar house elements, the song leans into themes of desire and late-night intimacy: “Don’t mind you naked, don’t be shy / Body to body, no be bad thing.” It is a fitting, though somewhat predictable, way to end an album that leans heavily on themes of wealth and desire.
Overall, M$NEY is a continuation of an arc that began with MMWTV, where Asake’s hunger was unmistakable, and his voice carried a sense of ambition. On M$NEY, however, that hunger feels more refined. He no longer sounds like an artiste chasing a place in the industry; on M$NEY, he sounds like one settling into the heights he has already reached, more controlled in delivery, more measured in tone, and more aware of his position.
The production on the album is nothing short of stellar. Magicsticks, BlaiseBeatz, and DJ Snake all bring their absolute best, crafting a sonic landscape that is frequently thrilling. The shimmering saxophone on “Rora,” the lush violin strains of “Wa,” the propulsive house energy of “Asambe,” these are moments of genuine sonic brilliance. In many moments, it feels like the production does the heavier lifting on M$NEY, elevating ideas that are otherwise thin in execution.
Unlike his earlier projects, where Asake seemed to have an endless well of things to say, M$NEY finds him oddly reticent. The writing is sparse where it should be sharp, and straightforward where it once would have been layered. And for those who fell in love with the bold sonic adventurism of the Lungu Boy album, M$NEY does not push boundaries in a way that challenges expectations or expands his sound in a way that moves beyond familiar patterns.
