Key Takeaways

• Gunna’s final YSL release, The Last Wun, officially made landfall on Friday (Aug. 8).
• The album blends luxury rap with introspective bars and subtle shots, including possible references to Young Thug.
• Features from Burna Boy, Wizkid, and Offset expand the sound without compromising Gunna’s identity.

Gunna’s sixth studio album, The Last Wun, is a bold statement for a closing chapter. Billed as his final project under YSL and 300 Entertainment, it’s less a goodbye and more a reinvention in motion. Clocking in at 25 tracks, the album is ambitious, sleek, and loaded with emotional, commercial, and even confrontational elements. From the opening line of “many nights,” where he reflected, “Life feels like a war, but Lord protectin’ my soul,” it’s clear Gunna is positioning himself not just as a survivor, but as someone still building, plotting, and (of course) counting.

Throughout The Last Wun, Gunna maintained his signature blend of moody opulence and melodic precision. He’s still very much immersed in the world of luxury — designer brands, million-dollar whips, overseas villas — but the flexes carry more weight here. On “let that sink in,” he rapped, “When you built off faith, your s**t don’t break or bend,” a line that added spiritual subtext to the usual gloss. It’s that mixture of self-assurance and subtle reflection that anchors the project, offering glimpses of a man keenly aware of both his reputation and the narratives swirling around him.

Gunna still flaunts wealth along with clarity and consequence

Even while wrapped in Pucci or riding in Lambos, Gunna sounds like someone aware that material wins come with personal costs. The boasts are still present, but now they hit with double meaning. For example, “biting my game” channeled that awareness through lines like “N**gas risking they life for these millions,” while “sak pase” framed hustle as something sacred, not just stylish. The result is a luxury-rap album that scans as more meditative than mindless. He’s still flexing, but the pressure behind the grind is closer to the surface.

Of course, some of that pressure seems tied to lingering tension with Young Thug and the YSL camp. “Prototype” doesn’t name names, but when Gunna raps, “I don’t f**k with you clowns, you n**gas prototypes,” it’s hard not to try to read between the lines. He may or may not have addressed Thugger’s since-deleted “You not my friend” tweet: “N**ga had tweeted my name, musta had to be a typo.” Either way, he remained calculated by offering smoke without fire, ambiguity instead of a diss. The restraint may frustrate fans hungry for more drama, but it’s also a power move that suggests Gunna, now more than ever, controls his own story.

Afrobeats features from Burna Boy and Wizkid elevate The Last Wun

Toward the second half of the album, Gunna widened the sonic scope. The Burna Boy-assisted “wgft” is bold, sensual, and hedonistic, while Wizkid’s melodic touch on “forever be mine” leans romantic and dreamy. These Afrobeats collaborations don’t feel like feature bait, either. Gunna bent his flows to suit the energy without ever losing his identity.

Despite its nearly 80-minute runtime, The Last Wun (largely backed by production from Turbo) rarely loses steam. Tracks like “won’t stop” and “just say dat” keep the momentum high, while Offset’s verse on “at my purest” adds polish without stealing shine. There’s no reinvention here, but there’s refinement — a sharpened flow, a more focused ear for hooks, and a willingness to shift moods without breaking stride.

In the end, The Last Wun is a victory lap that leaves a trail of questions and a farewell that doubles as a statement of intent. If this is truly Gunna’s last under YSL, he’s not just leaving — he’s evolving, and he wants you to hear every calculated step.