Kendrick Lamar has always been an artist who moves with absolute intention. Since his debut commercial mixtape Section. 80, the unparalleled Compton wordsmith has made a habit of constructing lyrically and thematically dense concept albums with the intention of telling stories of the Black American experience through his eyes. And his major-label debut, good kid, m.A.A.d city, is just that and so much more. 

good kid, m.A.A.d city is billed as “a short film by Kendrick Lamar,” and the project is comparable to coming-of-age film classics like Stand By Me, The Wood, and Boyz n The Hood, with its structured pacing of three acts and a clear beginning, middle, and end. A memoir chronicling a 16-year-old Lamar, getting into trouble on a 2005 Compton summer day, good kid... is the perfect introduction to the West Coast emcee’s ethos. 

“A lot of these motherfuckers are good kids. That’s why I like to call Compton kids 'good kids in a mad city,' the influences are making them fucked up,” Lamar explained in an interview with Complex. “Everything is premeditated. What I think happened is me visualizing that for so long, throwing that in the universe, it finally comes into play.” 

The album is the emcee's case study on how the effects of gang culture, street violence, and drug abuse affect, not only himself, but all of the people around him. From start to finish, Lamar speaks through the highly impressionable, horny, curious, violent, and defiant adolescent version of himself, introducing mainstream Hip-Hop fans to K. Dot. 

The album begins with the hypnotizing intro track “Sherane a.k.a Master Splinters Daughter,” introducing a sex-hungry Lamar, on the prowl to hook up with the neighborhood “hood rat” who his mother advised him to stay away from while he’s out borrowing her Dodge Caravan. Still wet behind the ears, young K. Dot tends to ignore the voice of reason, visiting a girl in a rival hood, stealing his mother's van, and apparently ignoring her calls; the track sets the tone for the shenanigans that commence later in the album.  Lamar continues to portray his adolescent self as living in a very “ignorance is bliss” state of mind on the track “Backseat Freestyle,” where K. Dot freestyles in the back of his friend’s car, further expressing his thirst for money, power, respect. The song’s music video shows Kendrick Lamar on tour in Paris when his father calls asking to return his mother’s car and his dominos, portraying he’s still a victim of this worldly mind state. 

“I wrote that song from the perspective of being 16 years old,” Kendrick explains in an interview. “I knew who Martin Luther King was then but didn't know how much of an impact he made. We know what dream Martin Luther King stood for, but being 16, the dream we stood for was money, power, sex, drugs, murder, and things like that, so that was the perspective I had as a 16-year-old kid.”

“The Art of Peer Pressure” chronicles an impressionable K. Dot riding around with three of his homies drinking, smoking, and taunting street rivals, all things that Kendrick would never do, but he’s “with the homies.”

The next line the listener hears is delivered from the perspective of Kendrick’s mother, giving her son fair warning about the lifestyle he’s living, repeating, “one day it’s gon’ burn you out,” something that quickly comes to fruition in the following tracks.

On the Drake-assisted “Poetic Justice,” Kendrick pulls up to the enemy territory to link up with Sherane.  On the track, Drake portrays Sherane’s other boyfriend, who feels Sherane has been distant from him due to her spending too much time with Kendrick. At the end of the song, Kendrick is confronted by rival gang members, ultimately getting jumped and robbed. 

“If you listen to ‘Poetic Justice,’ it’s a song about a chick saying these legs are poems,” Kendrick Lamar tells Complex. “On the back end of that, it’s really the Sherane joint, so it’s a dedication song for Sherane. And It’s going into ‘good kid’ and ‘m.A.A.d city,’ which completes the story.” 

The title tracks, “good kid” and “m.A.A.d city,’ kicks off the album’s second half, where Kendrick’s fast, street lifestyle finally catches up to him. The two tracks give Kendrick the time to reflect on the adverse effects of gang culture, police brutality, and drug abuse. Track’s like m.A.A.d city” and the following “Swimming Pools (Drank)” (one of the album's hit singles) dives deep into the topics of mental health and self-medication, “m.A.A.d” being an acronym for both “My Angels on Angel Dust” and “My Angry Adolescence divided.” 

Southern California native Dr. Evan Thomas, DSW, co-founder of FAITHS Throughcare Program, a prison rehabilitation program focused on improving the success of the post-incarceration reentry of justice-involved clients, believes Kendrick Lamar's case study does a great job putting a magnifying glass on American street and gang culture as it relates to the justice system. He explains how powerful an album like GKMC can be for young teens easily influenced by Hip-Hop and street culture. 

“We want to be like our idols, and that can lead us to either a good or very destructive path," Dr. Thomas explains. “So many teens get into gangs because that’s the only family that they know, because of how the American slave trade has damaged African-American families for so long. Some people know the origins of Piru and the origins of Crip, but they don’t understand what they’re fighting for.” 

“Kids turn to music: 'Here’s someone who relates to me.' Now, it's on that artist to honor what they feel, but I’m gonna show you there’s a different way. Hip-Hop is so influential among the African-American community. Kids turn to music. Here’s someone who relates to me.  Now, it's on that artist to honor what they feel, but I’m gonna show you there’s a different way.” 

On the album’s standout track, “Sing About Me, Dying of Thirst,” Lamar speaks from the perspective of two people in his community who were touched by his records, for better or worse. The first verse is told from the perspective of Dave, Kendrick’s childhood friend who witnessed his brother die in front of his eyes; Dave shows his appreciation for Kendrick sharing his brother’s story in his music, asking him to continue to be the voice of the streets before his own life was claimed by streets. 

In the second verse, Lamar portrays a prostitute and the sister of Kiesha, who Kendrick raps about on his Section .80 cut “Kiesha’s Song,” arguably the most heartwrenching verse on the album; the woman also loses her life as a product of her street lifestyle, validating Kendrick’s mother’s sentiment of the streets “burning you out.” 

“‘Sing About Me is actually a true song. The first verse is speaking from my partna’s point of view. He respected how much I loved his brother no matter how much they called him a delinquent. He also recognized this is a lifestyle, and if he were to pass before my album dropped to ‘Sing About Me.” 

In the last verse and the second half of the song, “Dying of Thirst,” K. Dot takes a moment to take a look in the mirror and reflect on himself and his place in the world. He speaks about having a want and urgency to make it out of Compton and not be a product of his environment like so many of his peers that faded away in a "mad city." 

The album’s closing track, “Compton,” works as the short film’s credits. A triumphant ode to K. Dot’s hometown assisted by his mentor and fellow West Coast legend,  Dr. Dre. The track finds Kendrick celebrating his life and success while beating all the odds set against him while appreciating the people, the culture, and the support of his beloved city of Compton.