“So many offers on the table / a bitch gotta eat on the couch,” Chicago rapper CupcakKe recently boasted on pal Charli XCX's 'I Got It'. Surely, as Ephorize continues to reach more and more ears (a Pitchfork BNM doesn't hurt), those have doubled. Tellingly, however, the irrepressible Elizabeth Harris begins her most ambitious venture as CupcakKe on a far less jubilant note.

'2 Minutes' finds her beating her chest at detractors and fake friends, while confronting her own frail humanity. For a rapper often appreciated, if reduced to, her raucous sexuality, its an immediate demand to be seen and heard as more. Naturally, she still finds time for countless hilariously raunchy punchlines, and a song titled 'Spoiled Milk Titties', but Ephorize signals the true genesis of a fully realized, ambitious voice in hip hop.

With the often acknowledged, never fairly addressed, lack of female voices in rap, CupcakKe shows little interest in the pedantic, audience enforced 'cat fight' for the Queen title, all but sidestepping the competition entirely. When fans show far more interest in a showdown than Nicki and Cardi, it's more than telling of the sexism at work, and Harris has created an arena all her own (at least among figures so visible).

Early highlight 'Duck Duck Goose' propels with energy, from its bouncing beat to some of the mostly amusingly cartoonish sexuality from CupcakKe yet. She sandwhiches bowling, Mr. Clean, Kanye, and even a Peter Pan joke into a joyous bedroom romp, she's brushing his pubic hairs during fellatio. Sex rap has been a female staple since Lil Kim toyed with Biggie, but so often since, it has felt obligatory, tired (with respect to Trina's best joints). It should have grown tired, a woman simply expected to rap sexually is absurd, but CupcakKe has a blast, rediscovering the fine line between empowerment and appeasing a male audience. Her songs practically burst with positivity and joy, no matter how 'nasty' they get.

'Cinnamon Toast Crunch' on the other hand, takes on a far more aggressive tone, crackling with barbs for seemingly anyone in her way (or in her her bed). It bears repeating, while the loud sexuality at play is inevitably going to stick out, this is just as much – if not more – an album of reckoning. 'Exit' removes a cheating partner from her life, and much of the album is spent with shade for various people in her life: perhaps none more so than herself. 'Self Interview' finds CupcakKe taking Harris (and cultural wrongs) to task, verging on a full on 'T.I. vs. T.I.P.' situation.

The album isn't flawless. While LGBTQ support has long been a key component of Harris' voice and perspective, her songs voicing it can still feel a tad clumsy and overstated. 'Crayons' finds her characteristic cleverness replaced by a well-intended jackhammer, repeating “Boy on boy / Girl on girl”, with CupcakKe pointing out she has a gay stylist. It's hard to find any fault with her, giving much needed voice in a homophobic musical arena, but one hopes she finds a way to more naturally graft it into her songwriting.

It hardly detracts from the project overall, and on 'Post Pic' she's back to imagining men masturbating to her pictures, while 'Meet and Greet' brings the aggression back, offering the gem, “Only time a bitch can tell me 'Have a seat' / is if I'm on the Ellen Show.” CupcakKe's confidence and complete lack of a filter remain her greatest allies on Ephorize, with the album feeling like an arrival. Queen Elizabeth may have made some noise, but here, she drowns out the competition. Her position has become undeniable, leaving room for only one thought: what's next. She's sure to be eating on the couch for a while.