Rich Homie Quan is determined to lay it all on the line. “Never Made It,” the two-minute opening song from his latest record, Back to the Basics, isn’t a prelude or a teaser, it’s a top-to-bottom referendum on his life and career. Quan raps about his “situation,” which is likely about being caught in label limbo, settling lawsuits, and watching his former peers blow past him by all commercial metrics. He rattles off important professional moments from the last few years, including “Flex (Ooh, Ooh, Ooh)” going double-platinum and a disappointing freestyle on Tim Westwood’s show that invited jokes and jabs, only to remind the listener: “Never forget—I still got me a little family to feed.” As Big Boi would say, that’s only the intro.

There was a time not too long ago when Rich Homie Quan figured to be Atlanta’s next breakout star. In 2013, “Type Of Way” made him an instant sensation. The song was vicious and skull-rattling, but had a strangely conspicuous softer side: “I’ve got a hideaway, and I go there sometimes/To give my mind a break/Still I find a way.” That was Quan, injecting heart and vulnerability into styles that don’t demand it. His mixtapes, especially that year's I Promise I Will Never Stop Going In, generated considerable buzz, and the following year, he teamed up with fellow Atlantan Young Thug for Tha Tour, Part One, issued by Cash Money under the Rich Gang moniker.

Tha Tour was a staggering record, and seemed to position Quan for further success: Songs like “Freestyle” cast him as the emotional center of a new wave of rap stars. But a number of factors, including and perhaps especially a legal battle with his former label, T.I.G. Entertainment, have kept him from breaking through. “Flex” was a massive hit (that video has over 100 million views), but failed to land him a commercial album release date; his last trio of mixtapes, though solid, has yet to further his public stature, and to an outsider, Quan seems to have been running in place.

So he went back to the basics. Over 11 tracks and 35 minutes, Quan reestablishes himself as one of the genre’s most innovative stylists and its most heartfelt writers. “Heart Cold” throws you back into the trap houses Quan detailed so vividly in 2013, but now the timeline is blurry—is this a half-remembered scene, or is he selling a mid-2000s Clipse thing, where the rap money is so slow he’s diversifying? He makes sex and money sound dull and vaguely annoying, but blows his paranoia up in Technicolor and raps intensely about affixing trackers to cell phones. It would sound like a well-executed writing exercise if it didn’t also sound like an exorcism.

Quan is still a pure, unmitigated joy to hear rap. “Money Fold” resurrects the Rich Gang trick of making a mansion party sound like a haunted house. Closer “Str8” carries his style to its natural, irresistible conclusion, where he raps in a half-dozen different modes, but each of them could very well serve as the song’s chorus. Back to the Basics is well-curated, and certainly serves as a mission statement for the second phase of Quan’s career, but just as often functions as a masterclass.

Before he starts rapping on “Replay,” Quan says into the mic: “I’m so content with the person I am. I can give a fuck about what you think about me, honestly, bro.” Somehow, it seems earned. Back to the Basics is a lot of things, but it isn’t confused; it plays like a long therapy session, where Quan lays out his regrets and paranoias—something he has to do to arrive at this place. It’s possible that Quan never gets bigger than he is right now, and it sounds like he knows it. But he’s rapping on his terms, and doing it on a level that almost none of his peers can match.