A$AP Rocky’s ‘Don’t Be Dumb’ Is A Fun Yet Safe Return To Form
Nearly a decade has passed since A$AP Rocky released a full studio album—eight years, to be exact. In the time between releases, Rocky has been unequivocally busy: arrested in Sweden in 2019, embroiled in a highly publicized legal case over two felony counts of shooting a semiautomatic firearm (and ultimately acquitted), elevating his fashion status, stepping into fatherhood and starring in a Spike Lee film alongside Denzel Washington. After years of delays, leaks and long stretches of silence, his long-awaited fourth studio album “Don’t Be Dumb” arrived, carrying the weight of that history, with the expectation that time has done something to reshape how Rocky approaches vulnerability, reflection and perspectives in his music.
Across its hour-long runtime, “Don’t Be Dumb” is a flawed and often convoluted album that at times feels superficial. Yet Rocky’s lyricism remains sharp, with flashes of the ingenuity that once made him one of rap’s most compelling figures. The issue isn’t ambition or ability. It's depth. For an album shaped by so much life in between, its ideas rarely move beyond the surface. What emerges is a project that stands at the edge of something unfamiliar, acknowledges change, but ultimately hesitates to fully commit. Rocky does acknowledge how his life has shifted whether it's within status, committing to a romantic partner, and being absent but the album often retreats to familiar modes of confidence, and braggadocious personality rather than allowing those changes mold and disrupt his artistry moving forward. While the album is well packaged with visually ambitious music videos and artistically expansive elements, including Tim Burton’s gothic-tinged artwork, these flourishes sometimes feel more like aesthetic extensions than expressions of emotional purpose.
“It’s been a while since I been in the league,” Rocky declares on the haunting introduction “Order of Protection,” delivered over ominous chord progressions that signal confrontation. Lines like “Still in the field like I’m runnin’ in cleats / Last time I checked, we still in the lead” reaffirm his veteran status, demanding acknowledgment rather than reintroduction. His confidence is intact and it radiates throughout the album but the friction between that confidence and the album’s emotional follow-through begins here.
The tempo ramps up on “Helicopter,” where kinetic synthesizers and booming 808s create one of the album’s sharpest moments. This is Rocky at his most focused—confident, stoic, and locked in. Fans of “LONG.LIVE.A$AP” or his early mixtape “LIVE.LOVE.A$AP” will feel right at home as he effortlessly channels his Memphis-inspired flows. That momentum continues on “STOLE YA FLOW,” where his delivery turns more scathing as he directs shots at longtime adversaries. Most notably with lines like “First you stole my flow, so I stole yo’ bitch,” and “Niggas gettin’ BBLs, lucky we don’t body shame,” which reads as a clear jab at Drake amid lingering tensions involving Rihanna. Still, even here, Rocky’s edge is quickly overshadowed by Sauce Walka’s unhinged verse on “STOP SNITCHING,” which stands as one of the album’s highlights.
To his credit, Rocky continues to expand his range across genres, refusing to be boxed in. Tracks like “STFU” and “AIR FORCE (BLACK DEMARCO)” thrive on controlled chaos, edging toward crowd-igniting energy. Meanwhile, “ROBBERY” featuring Doechii stands as a true standout, pushing Rocky into a new territory he should explore more often. Over a noir-jazz palette, the two conjure a grainy black-and-white crime film, embodying a modern Bonnie and Clyde that feels cinematic and theatrical without overstaying its welcome.
On “STAY HERE 4 LIFE,” Rocky unexpectedly lowers his guard. Alongside Brent Faiyaz, he reveals a softer, more reflective side, expressing devotion to Rihanna and signaling a clear departure from his former player persona. Faiyaz and Rocky once again show how well they pair together as they previously did on “Outside All Night” from Faiyaz’s “Larger Than Life” mixtape. It’s one of the album’s most emotionally resonant moments—his own understated take on Biggie’s “One More Chance” or “Only You” with 112—but it arrives briefly before the album moves on once again.
Much of Don’t Be Dumb’s unevenness ultimately stems from its sequencing. As Rocky jumps between Memphis bounce, punk, jazz, and electronic textures, the transitions often feel abrupt rather than intentional. Certain tracks land as detours instead of evolutions. “PUNK ROCKY,” for instance, feels like a shallow attempt at punk aesthetics rather than a fully realized fusion—more misfire than transformation, though the effort itself is worth acknowledging. Even the closing track, “THE END,” with its eerie, apocalyptic reflections on societal collapse, feels unmoored from the rest of the album. While not inherently bad, it’s off-putting in context, offering little resolution or thematic closure.
Rather than function as a culmination, “THE END” exposes the album’s tendency to have a surface level approach and it's one of the few examples where it lacks depth and meaning. “Newsflash, we at war, a global warning / I don't know if public schools servin' real food to the students”, it comes off as if he suddenly had an awakening of the realities of the world he hasn’t had to navigate for some time now. His concerns and worries are appreciated, however it’s random and lacks urgency, especially in the context of an album where those feelings and thoughts were for the most part absent.
Ultimately, “Don’t Be Dumb” may not be the blockbuster return, but it’s not without merit. It’s a reminder that A$AP Rocky is still capable of curating moments, experimenting with sound, and commanding attention. This time, however, he stops just short of turning experience into impact—leaving behind an album that gestures toward transformation without fully embracing it.