Album Review: Heels Have Eyes 2 by Westside Gunn
It’s not a radical reinvention, but it doesn’t need to be: this is the Flygod doing what he does best, with just enough new twists (in theme and execution) to keep it exhilarating.
Westside Gunn wastes no time following April’s one-night-made Heels Have Eyes EP with a full-length sequel that doubles down on his wrestling-themed vision. The first EP dropped at WrestleMania with WWE villain Ted DiBiase on the cover; this album ups the ante by swapping in DiBiase’s henchman Virgil—a tag-team of cover art that reflects Gunn’s obsession with wrestling “heels” and his talent for world-building. These homages run deep, framing the project’s identity in kayfabe. Gunn essentially casts himself as the larger-than-life bad guy, but he’s savvy about balancing that persona with flashes of real-life struggle throughout the record. The opener “Bomme des Garçon” (a play on fashion house Comme des Garçons) sets an immediate tone of self-mythologizing. Over Mr. Green’s minimalist loop, Gunn repeats “I’m a legend” in mantra-like fashion—a blunt introduction to the Flygod’s ego with no need for a verbose verse. It’s a sparse prelude that lets his legend speak for itself before the album truly kicks in.
When “Heel Cena” arrives, Gunn is fully in character, reveling in villainous bravado over a jazzy, sample-laced boom-bap beat. He paints himself as an untouchable heel: “White bricks, sniffed it one time, turned to heel Cena,” he sneers, bragging that a single hit of coke transformed him into the ultimate bad guy. The track is drenched in Gunn’s signature gunshot ad-libs and sly humor—he even jokes about a friend surviving five shots by saying “it tickled”, a gruesome punchline only a heel would drop with a grin. At the same time, Gunn knows fans might be vibing out to the luxurious production more than his bars—“Ayo, I been ahead of my time, you blinded by the sample,” he chides, breaking the fourth wall to remind us not to get too seduced by the smooth Cee Gee-esque loop.
“Amira Kitchen” then flips the script, proving this project isn’t all evil posturing. Over a soulful Cee Gee beat peppered with live saxophone flourishes, Gunn and guest Brother Tom Sos shift their focus to perseverance and faith amid the chaos of the streets. Brother Tom handles the hook with a raspy, heartfelt refrain: “We’ve seen the rainstorms, we’ve seen sunshine… on both days, we be alright… Everything working ’cause God said it would.” It’s a surprisingly uplifting streak in an otherwise grimy album, and Gunn follows that lead. In his verses, he still talks dope and prison yard images, but there’s a current of gratitude underneath the grit. Never one to stay gentle for long, Gunn comes back swinging on “Power House Dobbs.” Denny Laflare serves up an ominous, hard-hitting backdrop befitting the track’s namesake (AEW wrestler Powerhouse Hobbs), and Gunn responds with two verses of unfiltered grime. His cousin and frequent partner-in-rhyme, Benny the Butcher, crashes the party to show why features on a Gunn project are never dead weight. Benny’s presence sharpens the track’s impact instantly. His flow is cold-blooded and precise, and he drops bars that match Gunn’s villainy line for line. “Compressors on the TEC sound like I opened a Pepsi,” Benny raps, describing his silenced gun with a grim smirk.
At the album’s midpoint, “Mandela” (produced by Conductor Williams) brings a subtle shift in tone. True to Conductor’s style, the beat opens with his signature tag and then flips into a soul-laced loop that feels slightly brighter—almost triumphant—compared to the darkness earlier. Gunn uses that backdrop to delve into some of his most personal reflections. He name-drops a pivotal loss from his past: “Machine Gun died, I turned heel”, referencing the death of his brother Machine Gun Black as the moment he embraced the “heel” mentality in real life. It’s a powerful admission that all this villain posturing has roots in real trauma. Harry Fraud provides a cinematic, mid-tempo canvas here on “Brikolai Volkoff,” and Gunn teams up with Stove God Cooks to turn the energy back up to outrageous levels. Gunn kicks it off, declaring himself “the fuckin’ boogeyman” in the intro, but it’s Stove God who truly steals the spotlight. He comes in with a hook that’s as profane as it is catchy: “You broke, you pussy… If they ask you if I’m still cookin’, tell ‘em, ‘You broke, you pussy,’” he shouts mockingly. It’s abrasive, over-the-top, and absolutely perfect for the villainous atmosphere—the kind of taunt a wrestling heel would hurl at a booing crowd.
On “Aunt Gina,” Gunn taps Skyzoo for a dose of classic New York lyricism. Over another Cee Gee beat, the Brooklyn wordsmith sounds right at home trading verses with Gunn. In fact, Skyzoo sounds revitalized here. What’s clear is that Gunn uses Aunt Gina to pay homage to his own roots (the title suggests a personal reference, possibly a family or community figure) while also broadening the album’s palette with Skyzoo’s polished pen game. “Glowrealah” keeps the focus on Gunn solo, and as the title hints (maybe a GloRilla name flip?), it plunges back into a darker, eerie mood. Denny Laflare’s production here is gloomy and atmospheric, and longtime fans will recognize all the classic Flygod elements: ominous loops, references to street legends, high-fashion brags, and sinister undertones. That leads perfectly into “Prick,” one of the album’s most introspective and revealing songs. Brother Tom Sos returns for a standout feature, and this time he opens the track with a full verse that pulls no punches about the cost of living the life they do. “They think my life is perfect, they think it’s ideal… truth be told, I’m about as empty as a popped bottle,” Sos admits bluntly, immediately cutting through the Flygod façade.
With feelings laid bare, Gunn pivots back to flex mode on “Demna Left Balenci.” Produced by the legendary DJ Muggs, the track finds Gunn reacting to a news bit from the fashion world: Balenciaga’s creative director Demna leaving the brand. For the Flygod, a notorious high-fashion connoisseur, this is practically an earth-shaking event, and he turns it into art. However, MIKE, perhaps the most unexpected guest, contributes a poetic, introspective vibe that broadens the album’s palette in a welcome way. On “Blow Hendry,” MIKE sounds right at home over the dusty Griselda production, delivering abstract reflections like “The darker days not as gloomy but they still exist, tomorrow’s angst make me moody” in his distinctive cadence. His presence momentarily shifts the tone, but instead of feeling out of place, it invites listeners to contemplate the themes from yet another angle—it’s a late-album deep breath before Gunn’s final act.
Heels Have Eyes 2 is the sound of Westside Gunn fully in his element (some of his best rapping performances in years)—raw, unapologetic, and oddly poignant. He plays the heel to the hilt, but he never loses sight of the real-life stakes that inform his persona. By the closing bell, the listener has been treated to both the pageantry of a wrestling villain and the confessions of a man who’s taken real losses and kept going. The album’s blunt, concrete language and concrete loops drive home every point with no wasted motion. After this 37-minute onslaught, a few tracks stand out above the rest. Westside Gunn set out to drop a sequel swiftly and confidently, and he succeeded. This album stands firmly in his catalog as a focused, fierce showcase of what he does best. For its cohesive storytelling, memorable performances, and the deft balance of theatre and truth, he remains in a league of his own, and love him or hate him, he’s made sure you can’t take your eyes (or ears) off the heel.
Favorite Track(s): “Power House Dobbs,” “Brikolai Volkoff,” “Prick”