Album Review: Thundakat Reintroduces Herself as Jaye Naima on Confessional Debut ‘Life Goes Hard’

The candid rapper undergoes a four-part transformation on her first full-length album.

Written by C.S. Harper

Photo courtesy of Rafe Grimball

Since 2019, up-and-coming rapper Jaye Naima has proven herself as a full-fledged musician. Bursting onto the scene with the slick and braggadocious “PSA,” Naima soon followed up with banger after banger in her debut EP Life Goes Hard (Into the Glitch). Her arresting flow and catchy instrumentals quickly earned her the moniker Thundakat, as well as a collaboration with fellow pop musician Chase Icon.

But on her long-awaited debut album, Life Goes Hard, Naima peels away the Thundakat cocoon to reveal the true self lying underneath. A collection of 18 immaculately produced songs, the record shows Naima at both her most confident and most vulnerable. Life Goes Hard sees the North Carolina native not just sing, but open up about her struggles for the first time. Although Naima shared in a recent interview that the vulnerability of the album made the recording process difficult, it certainly paid off: Life Goes Hard is Naima’s most polished project yet.

The record is divided into four parts: Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter, reflecting the seasons of Naima’s multifaceted metamorphosis. Spring stuns with opener “Inner Child,” a nostalgic, ’70s-esque track with a flute-driven melody. For the first time in her discography, Naima sings for the entirety of the song, delivering lines from deep within her soul. “Appreciating everything I own / Everything is yours until it’s gone,” she muses with an autotuned twang. The introspection continues into the bridge as she belts, “Don’t lose yourself / You got to hear yourself / Sometimes you need some help” before repeating the heartfelt hook, “Inner child / Hope you fly / Please don’t die / So keep trying.” The meditative track serves as a departure from the Thundakat persona, revealing the tenderness that is to come at the end of her transformation.

However, the rapper taps back into Thundakat in follow-up tracks “Presidential Suite” and “Kill Bill Vol. II.” Over swirling violins and a triumphant choir in the former, Naima raps bars about her lavish lifestyle and baddie energy. “Walking through the street / Every single day I eat,” she spits, leaving no crumbs. “Kill Bill Vol. II,” a playful reference to the Tarantino film — and perhaps SZA’s similarly titled song — continues exploring Naima’s confident façade despite its mid-tempo cadence. “‘Cause I’m bad and I’m about that life / And I won’t hesitate to fuck your n----,” she raps defiantly.

Image courtesy of Jaye Naima

The sun comes out, and it’s time for hot girl summer. Summer begins with “Pussy Poppin Pink,” an appropriately BBE — bad bitch energy — type song. An empowerment track and fun baddie anthem, the song features references to feminist icons such as Britney Spears, Rico Nasty, and even Barbie. With lyrics like “Turn around better clap that fuckin’ ass cheek / Sassy because he like it nasty,” Naima calls for all her girlfriends to shake their booties and “paint the whole world pussy pussy poppin’ pink.” A highlight of the album, “Pussy Poppin Pink” is sure to have listeners twerking along.

Naima continues exploring themes of sexual liberation in “Thundakeisha” and “FACE & BODY.” Featuring Mo Green, the track balances femininity and masculinity with Naima’s pleas to “fuck me right there” and Green’s autotune-heavy, gritty guest verse. In follow-up track “FACE & BODY,” the femme rapper makes a reference to the Kamasutra and daringly tells her lover, “When I show you I’m flexible / You’re gonna bend back your wallet.”

But something’s in the air: Just as the leaves turn brown, so too does Naima transform. Fall kicks off with “OMG,” which has a somber piano line that contrasts the rapper’s lyrics about being so attractive it makes men go, “Oh my God.” The melancholic production makes it seem like there’s an underlying uncertainty in her words, and sure enough, following track “Love Me, Anyway” trades her confidence for vulnerability. Over ethereal synths, sentimental piano chords, and a tick-tocking beat, Naima delivers a heartfelt ballad on her conflicting feelings on love. With lines like “I’m not woman enough as is” and “I’m sorry I wrote this,” the once unapologetic rapstress puts her heart on a platter for the world to see.

Naima continues divulging her insecurities in “Sorry” and “Overcompensate.” Accompanied by delicate piano keys in “Sorry,” the musician-songwriter delivers mellifluous vocalizations before begging her loved one for forgiveness: “I’m so sorry.” In “Overcompensate,” she tells the listener that “you get too much, you overcompensate.” However, given the context that her Thundakat persona was a way of compensating for her insecurities, the track seems more like her future, wiser self from “Fall” advising “Spring” Jaye Naima to embrace her true self.

Photo courtesy of Rafe Grimball

Snow is now falling; the trees have become barren. Their gnarly, naked figures rip off another layer of the Thundakat shell. Winter begins with the peppy “Screenshot,” which sees Naima reflect on her journey. “Take a screenshot of my life / … God giving me a test,” she sings over chopped and screwed vocals. She wishes for comfort in herself as Jaye while celebrating how far she’s come along: “Falling in love with me again, yeah / … Used to think I’m worth way less / Building on my confidence, yes / I can see my growth, I’m blessed.” Although self-love is an ongoing process, Naima has finally embraced her true identity.

Winter ends with a Jaye Naima classic: “Bad Bitch Position.” Given the rapper has referred to the song as her signature track, it’s no wonder why she chose it to close off the album. With its minimalistic but hard-hitting beat and quotable lines like “Wanna be in my shoes, but you can’t fit my Jimmy Choos,” “Bad Bitch Position” ends the record on a high note. Naima has completed her metamorphosis, regaining her confidence and unlocking a new state of being — a bad bitch position.

One of the strongest hip-hop debuts in recent memory, Life Goes Hard doesn’t just live by its title by going hard: it’s tender, fun, and cunty all at once. For the first time, Thundakat looks past her stage persona and lets listeners into her true psyche, warts and all. With this record, Jaye Naima doesn’t just reintroduce herself to the world — she finds herself, at last.