Jhené Aiko is the fantasy girl who rappers are always complaining doesn’t exist. In a gold digger’s world, the hush-voiced singer doesn’t want handouts: “If a man has a chef and maid, then I can’t practice my domestic powers. Mostly, I just don’t want a guy who would waste money.” In the FOMO era, she’s chill: “I probably smoke weed twice a week and have no problem sleeping for ten hours.” And—for our visually impaired subscribers—she’s living proof that the equation of seven ethnic ancestries (African-American, Japanese, Native American, Spanish, Dominican, French, and German-Jewish) has one stunning solution.

Aiko’s debut solo album, Souled Out, is the female echo of everything her male counterparts write songs about: trust issues, adjusting to fame, etc. It’s just as dark, as melodic, and most important, as damn good. “There’s no fucking around with this album,” says Aiko, 26. The dating rumors are already flying around (cough Drake cough Donald Glover), but with an album this good, rappers better stop looking at her as a fantasy—and start seeing her as a threat.