Latto – ‘Big Mama’ review: embracing every version of herself

The world has watched Latto grow up. From winning The Rap Game at 16 as Miss Mulatto, where she turned down Jermaine Dupri’s record deal to stay independent, to becoming the gritty Southern heir to Gangsta Boo and Trina, she’s built her career brick by brick in full public view. Now 27, she releases her fourth studio album ‘Big Mama’: a title that started as a metaphor for her dominance and became literal after welcoming her first child with 21 Savage last month.

The album’s opening run reminds you exactly why Latto became a star in the first place. ‘GOMF’ with GloRilla is pure shit-talking excellence, and ‘Get Money Girl’ doubles down on the hustler mentality that carried her from underground upstart to mainstream fixture. Even pregnancy gets the luxury-flex treatment on ‘Chrome Heart Diaper Bag’; Latto refuses to turn down her confidence while boasting about overcoming the odds and her lavish life over a cinematic beat: “Since sixteen, I been the one to beat / This shit was a dream, now I can’t stop smilin’”..

It’s easy to hear echoes of the old Young Money school in her writing – rapid-fire punchlines, every bar engineered to be quotable – but Latto’s strengths run deeper than that. She addresses the rumours that “Crodie” Drake writes her bars, taking it as “a compliment”. Her pen is stronger still on ‘Hostage’, which might be one of her most creative offerings. Her flow is toyetic and dexterous, which makes it all the more frustrating when 21 Savage arrives and deflates the fun entirely: “Baby girl, tell me, when you squirt, is it straight piss?” After years of speculation surrounding their relationship, them proudly together on a song should feel monumental, but his lethargic swagger and crass non-sequiturs dull what should have been a defining collab.

Sporadically, the album’s momentum stalls, especially when it reaches too aggressively for pop crossover territory or features guests that don’t mesh well with the Queen Of Da Souf. On ‘Anxious’, Wizkid and Odeal glide effortlessly across the breezy Afro-R&B groove while Latto sounds like she’s chasing the beat rather than commanding it. The synthetically sweet ‘Fallin’’ fares worse, with Latto borrowing from the glossy pop-R&B playbook that Doja Cat (who features and shows how it’s done on the catchy, cinematic ‘Okayyy’) has mastered without possessing the vocal elasticity to fully sell its tender tone.

Her best emotional offering is ‘Daddy’s Girl’. Over stripped-back production, Latto confronts her relationship with her estranged father with a level of honesty largely absent from her earlier work. “My protector left me with no protection,” she admits, unpacking years of disappointment and unresolved hurt from him abusing his power as her former manager before hitting you with the album’s most devastating line: “I got my own on the way now, and I can’t wait to teach her.”

Although there are times where she can be hypersexual and crass, her approach to love can be much more nuanced than typical pop-rappers are credited for. Whether she’s talking about money, family or heartbreak, Latto sounds increasingly comfortable embracing every version of herself on ‘Big Mama’. As she steps into motherhood, she proves that maturing doesn’t require reinvention, balancing bravado with reflection without sacrificing either.