2025 Showed Why Rap Needs More Duos

Hip-hop duos are hard to come by in 2025. Artists like Larry June and 2 Chainz may come together for a one-off produced by The Alchemist, and producer-artist albums are commonplace, but neither is the same as a full-time pairing. Last month, in an interview for Rolling Stone, I asked Erick Sermon what he thought was behind the current dearth of rap duos; he said he didn’t know. Sermon’s Dynamic Duos, Vol. 1 project features classic duos like EPMD, M.O.P., and Mobb Deep, but there weren’t many new acts to consider. Still, this year, Clipse’s Let God Sort Em Out and Mobb Deep’s Infinite showed how essential duos are to the rap landscape.

For many hip-hop heads, these were among the best albums of 2025, a pair of gritty, uncompromising lyrical exhibitions from two pairs of MCs who know their way around a beat. Prodigy is no longer here in the physical, but Infinite felt seamless, a monument to his everlasting chemistry with Havoc and The Alchemist. Perhaps in the way people credit Kendrick’s 2024 with bringing lyricism and competition back to mainstream rap, we may look back at Infinite and Let God Sort Em Out as catalysts for an influx of new duos.

As much as fans tout hip-hop as a mission of solitary lyrical supremacy, the duo, group, and collective are part of the genre’s essence. There are the aforementioned names, as well as A Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul, Outkast, Migos—the list is seemingly endless. And beyond those groups and duos, so many of hip-hop’s biggest stars emerged as part of a collective: Jay-Z and Roc-A-Fella, Kendrick Lamar and TDE, Snoop Dogg and Death Row, DMX and Ruff Ryders, Big Pun and Terror Squad. Not many rap superstars have stood alone as soloists, especially during their commercial peak. There’s something about seeing a group of people conquer the world together that invigorates fans and reminds them that maybe you don’t have to go through the highs and lows alone. Or maybe our inner capitalist just enjoys living out our boss fantasies through these guys.

“As much as fans tout hip-hop as a mission of solitary lyrical supremacy, the duo, group, and collective are part of the genre’s essence.”

Either way, our fervor for collectives, duos included, is part of why Clipse and Mobb Deep have remained indelible brands over the years, despite gaps in their catalogs. Even as Pusha T became one of the defining lyricists of the 2010s, he could never escape his Clipse affiliation.

In July, he and brother Malice delivered with Let God Sort Em Out, their comeback project, which felt like the biggest moment of 2025 by virtue of the momentous press cycle that introduced it. But beyond any interviews, the album was an impeccably written return to the game for Clipse, who hadn’t dropped a project in 16 years. It sounded like they had been apart for all of 16 days, their classic synergy intact over Pharrell’s production.

Throughout the album, the two show themselves as upper-echelon MCs with zero tolerance for anything below their elevated taste level. When Push rhymes, “Get these fifty-five-hundred-a-hosting niggas out of here,” it’s a salvo from two rappers who earned their position via skill and rue any association with industry clownery. Ditto the vibes of “So Be It,” “M.T.B.T.T.F.,” and “F.I.C.O.,” with Stove God Cooks’ earworm hook. Let God Sort Em Out has its real moments, beyond the braggadocio and plug talk: “Birds Don’t Sing” is Clipse’s most intimate song ever, as Push and Malice eulogize their parents over evocative production. On “P.O.V.,” Malice gets real about his distance from rap and his inner duality: “Came back for the money, that’s the devil in me / Had to hide it from the church, that’s the Jekyll in me.”

The project set the stage for their comeback parade to stretch the entire year, which included a feature on “Look at Me,” from Mobb Deep’s Infinite album. While every active artist who dropped an album as part of Mass Appeal’s “Legend Has It...” rollout still has it lyrically, there was a feeling that some of the projects suffered from lackluster production. You can’t say that about Infinite, the crown jewel of the proverbial “uncfest.” From the first two singles, the crew imbued the rap game with their classic Infamous sound: “Against the World” was a doleful, bluesy canvas ripe for gritty rhymes, while “Taj Mahal” was a sinister, hypnotic soundscape fit for the Mobb’s tales of late-night debauchery.

Infinite was no haphazardly crafted posthumous project; both Havoc and Alchemist revealed that Prodigy’s vocals served as its thematic anchor. Havoc adds to Prodigy’s hooks on “Mr. Magik” and “My Era,” and on “Pour the Henny,” P fit Havoc’s angelic production with the kind of reflective verse that demandde Nas’ presence as a proper adieu to QB’s original big three. Collectively, the album was a strong example of Havoc and Alchemist leaning into a signature sound, and they used what may be Prodigy’s final verses in a fitting manner.

These days, meeting fan expectations is about as easy as discerning a fake AI image, but Clipse did it nearly two decades later. The same can be said for Mobb Deep with Infinite. Both albums excelled for similar reasons. The appeal of a good duo is that even when both artists are thematically aligned, they’ll take disparate routes to get through a verse, making for a more entertaining experience. Prodigy delivers off-kilter flows and abstract flourishes with his brooding baritone, while Havoc is a surgical (and underrated) lyricist. And even as Malice and Pusha T share vocal tones, they contrast each other well with creative cadences and rhyme schemes. On their first single, “Ace Trumpets,” Pusha rode an “eee-eee” rhyme scheme, while Malice stuck with “ah-ah.” And on “So Be It,” Malice distinguishes his cadence from Pusha’s with a N.O.R.E.-like flow, subtly paying homage to Pharrell’s early days.

“The appeal of a good duo is that even when both artists are thematically aligned, they’ll take disparate routes to get through a verse, making for a more entertaining experience.”

Mobb Deep’s sound takes us to Queensbridge, where the Henny is flowing and menace lies around every corner. And while Clipse rep Norfolk, most of their bars feel like they’re delivered live from anywhere with a luxury resort and people in need of a fix. It’s that world-building that creates an immersive project and, in turn, loyal fans.

It seems harder than ever for upstart rappers to cut through the noise and reach the masses; more of them should consider doing it as part of a duo or group. Yes, that means splitting the music profits, but classic songs and albums have a way of creating a bigger pie to share. As Mobb Deep and Clipse’s momentous legacies and strong 2025 albums show, it all evens out.

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