Last month, a Korean underground rap song called “DDING” landed at No. 3 on the Gaon Digital Chart, the country’s equivalent to the Billboard Hot 100. Virtually all rap singles that debut near the top of the charts feature someone who’s associated with the K-pop industry, or are the product of a concurrent rap reality TV show. That “DDING” forged its path in a manner less corporatized revealed how musical ideas from young American rap had crept into Korea’s public consciousness. While the past few years have seen K-pop singles sprinkle in triplet flows and Travis Scott-indebted ad-libs, non-idol Korean rap was committing more fully: Dbo, a rapper whose admiration for Young Thug is obvious from his unhinged flow and the fact that one of his albums is called Arter 7; Jvcki Wai, the female rapper on “DDING,” who also made a remix of “XO Tour Llif3” and released music beholden to Lil Uzi Vert; and other rappers who attempted to recreate Playboi Carti’s “Magnolia.”

The influx of ATL and Soundcloud rap tropes only made Korean rapper/producer duo XXX stand out further. On last year’s Language, the beats of producer FRNK often had an industrial bent, heightening rapper Kim Ximya’s impassioned and caustic diatribes against a rapacious music industry and its complicit rappers. Second Language features the same fiery lyrics, but the production is less abrasive than before. Instead, there’s an added poignancy to the poppier tracks. “We Are,” for example, discusses the overwhelming dread of life, concluding with a simple decision: “We have to run.” The anxiety of just living is felt in its chipper, fidgeting beat.

One of the most noticeable differences between Second Language and its predecessor is how tightly coordinated Kim and FRNK have become. Previously, their music could seem like patchwork, FRNK’s warped instrumentation a mere backdrop to Kim’s steely flow. These songs are far more bracing because the two are fully in sync. Kim addresses other rappers on the braggadocious “Language,” asserting that “we do not speak the same language”—FRNK responds by cutting up the vocals to drive the point home. On “Bougie,” the lurching beat and bombastic horns act as martial theme music for Kim, his snarling tone only dramatizing it further. The instrumental coda sounds lively because Kim’s spent so much time imbuing it with grandiose energy. Ultimately, the two need each other to avoid sounding nondescript. The instrumental “Intro” is neon-lit and cozy, but a wordless album from FRNK would be far less exciting than what we’ve received. In 2017, Kim released a collaborative album with D. Sanders—the producer behind numerous Isaiah Rashad songs—and the results were stodgy. Across Second Language’s ten tracks, that problem never arises.

On Language, Kim lambasted institutions to proclaim how destructive they were. Here, he aims his vitriol at people in hopes of enacting change. “FAD” finds him curtly declaring “fuck fad madness” before detailing the absurdity of being fashion-obsessed. For him, submission to materialism is symptomatic of indifference toward the greater capitalistic machine at work. Through his music and lifestyle, Kim presents an alternative that he considers necessary for having self-respect. He highlights this on “Scale Model,” initially wondering why someone can’t become a “better man” with “better manners” before ending with assured self-aggrandizing: “nobody can ever touch my pride.” Physical copies of the album come with a note capturing this sentiment of non-conformity as rebellion: “I was invited to the party but I chose my own seat at the table.”

XXX aren’t the only Korean artists making experimental rap—TFO’s ㅂㅂ and Moldy’s Internet Kid are two albums in the same wheelhouse—but the duo’s two albums have an unwavering, identifiable purpose to all the clamor. On Korean streaming services, XXX have lyrics from their albums listed with all curse words self-censored. This allows them to circumvent the 19+ rating that their music would otherwise receive, ensuring that audiences of all ages can hear their work (the process to hear such music when you’re not of age is far more laborious than a simple button click). Because XXX think so highly of their messages, their desire for visibility isn’t just a ploy for increased popularity. On “Ooh Ah,” the album’s most outright catchy song, Kim repeatedly asks, “What about the legacy? Dog, what the fuck are you meant to be?” XXX know the answer, but they want you to be just as certain.