(ThyBlackMan.com) When I first heard The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, it felt like something inside me had shifted. Lauryn Hill wasn’t just singing—she was telling the truth in a way that cut deep, blending soul, hip-hop, and gospel with messages that still ring loud years later. Her voice carried wisdom beyond her years, her lyrics were poetry in motion, and her delivery—whether rapping or singing—was nothing short of powerful.
That one album gave us more than just music. It gave us guidance, healing, and a sense of identity at a time when so many of us were trying to figure ourselves out. Decades later, her work still sounds fresh. It still teaches, comforts, and challenges. That’s the mark of true artistry.
If you’ve never truly sat with her songs—or even if you have—here are seven Lauryn Hill tracks that deserve your time. These songs aren’t just timeless; they feel like they were made for right now.
1. Doo Wop (That Thing)
Lauryn Hill’s debut solo single, “Doo Wop (That Thing),” is both a celebration and a sermon. Released in 1998, it became the first debut single to top the Billboard Hot 100 since Debbie Gibson in 1988, and the first song by a solo female rapper to do so. On the surface, it’s a catchy blend of classic Motown vibes with boom-bap beats. But listen closer, and it’s a scathing critique of societal double standards, vanity, and the ways both men and women sell themselves short for superficial “things.”
What makes “Doo Wop” a must-listen today is how eerily relevant it remains. Hill’s lyrics call out both genders—men obsessed with conquest and status, and women compromising self-worth for momentary validation. “Don’t be a hard rock when you really are a gem,” she sings, reminding us of the power and importance of self-respect. In an era where social media rewards surface over substance, her lyrics strike a particularly sharp chord in 2025.
Musically, it’s a masterclass in genre blending. The horns, piano chords, and soulful background vocals nod to the golden age of soul, while Hill’s dexterous flow keeps it grounded in hip-hop’s essence. “Doo Wop (That Thing)” is a time capsule and a timeless anthem—a reminder that empowerment and musical excellence can, and should, go hand-in-hand.
2. Ex-Factor
Few breakup songs have the haunting beauty and raw honesty of “Ex-Factor.” Hill’s vocal delivery here is pure soul—anguished, reflective, and completely exposed. It’s a ballad that doesn’t hide behind metaphor. Instead, Hill puts her emotions on display, crooning lines like, “It could all be so simple, but you’d rather make it hard,” that resonate deeply for anyone who’s ever experienced a toxic love cycle.
What separates “Ex-Factor” from other heartbreak tracks is its maturity. Hill doesn’t paint herself as a victim; she questions her own complicity in the relationship’s dysfunction. The layering of harmonies, the subtle guitar work, and the minimalistic percussion all work to spotlight her voice and lyrics. This song doesn’t try to offer quick fixes—it lets you sit in the pain, in the unknowing, in the heartbreak. And that’s exactly why it remains powerful.
Even today, “Ex-Factor” finds relevance in the musical vocabulary of new artists. Drake famously sampled it in “Nice For What,” while Cardi B borrowed its emotional core in “Be Careful.” But no one can match the original’s unfiltered vulnerability. Listening to “Ex-Factor” today is like hearing a soul confess in a dark room—intimate, powerful, and deeply affecting.
3. To Zion (featuring Carlos Santana)
“To Zion” is perhaps the most personal and profound track Lauryn Hill has ever written. It’s a love letter to her firstborn son, Zion, and a declaration of faith over fear. At the time of her pregnancy, Hill faced pressure from industry figures to terminate her pregnancy for the sake of her career. But she defied them. “To Zion” becomes a transcendent testimony of motherhood, defiance, and the spiritual fulfillment that came from trusting her intuition.
The song’s structure is both meditative and celebratory. Carlos Santana’s expressive guitar work—emotive, flowing, and textured—adds a deeply spiritual element to the track. Combined with a slow, heartbeat-like rhythm, Hill’s vocals soar in a lullaby that becomes a hymn. “Now the joy of my world is in Zion,” she repeats with awe, as if still surprised by the depth of her own love.
In today’s world, where personal sacrifices are often hidden behind the veil of perfection and curated image, “To Zion” is refreshingly honest. It’s a song for every mother, every parent, and every individual who chose love over ambition, or faith over fear. It’s both a diary entry and a psalm, immortalizing one of life’s purest experiences.
4. Lost Ones
“Lost Ones” is Lauryn Hill at her most ferocious. The song is widely believed to be a diss track aimed at her former Fugees bandmate Wyclef Jean, and if so, it’s one of the most elegantly brutal lyrical takedowns in hip-hop history. Hill doesn’t scream or rant. Instead, she delivers bar after bar with surgical precision, turning poetic fury into performance art.
“It’s funny how money change a situation / Miscommunication leads to complication,” she spits in the opening lines. What follows is a masterclass in poetic wrath, couched in wisdom and spiritual awareness. Rather than descending into vulgarity or pettiness, Hill takes the high road, simultaneously exposing ego, betrayal, and hypocrisy. It’s hip-hop therapy with a backbone of self-worth and an undercurrent of pain.
Musically, “Lost Ones” features a minimalist beat that gives Hill’s vocals room to breathe and dominate. It’s raw, honest, and unapologetic. For any artist who has felt betrayed, or any listener navigating complicated personal history, “Lost Ones” is more than a diss—it’s an anthem of reclamation. It remains a defining track for women in rap who seek to own their stories with elegance and grit.
5. Nothing Even Matters (featuring D’Angelo)
When two icons of neo-soul collaborate, the result is bound to be magical. “Nothing Even Matters” is Lauryn Hill and D’Angelo at their most intimate and stripped down. It’s a departure from the social commentary of other tracks on The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, leaning instead into the sanctuary of romantic love. The chemistry between the two is palpable—never overtly sexual, but deeply sensual and spiritual.
The song thrives on minimalism. A simple piano riff, soft basslines, and the occasional string arrangement leave plenty of space for the vocals to weave their story. Hill and D’Angelo exchange verses like a couple sharing secrets under candlelight. The lyrics themselves are beautifully mundane: skipping classes, watching TV, ignoring the world. And yet, that ordinariness becomes sacred through their delivery. “Now the skies could fall / Not even if my boss should call / The world it seems so very small,” they sing, cocooned in love.
Listening to “Nothing Even Matters” today feels like taking a deep breath in a world that moves too fast. It reminds us of the beauty of slowing down and finding joy in simplicity. In an age where digital love dominates and relationships often play out online, this song is a gentle call to go inward, be present, and feel everything fully.
6. Final Hour
Often overshadowed by more commercially successful tracks, “Final Hour” is one of Lauryn Hill’s most underrated gems. It’s also one of her most lyrically dense. In this track, Hill marries her philosophical musings with spiritual urgency, delivering bars that question materialism, fame, and the impermanence of earthly success. “Now don’t you understand man universal law? / What you throw out comes back to you, star,” she warns with poetic certainty.
“Final Hour” feels like a sermon set to rhythm, calling out false prophets, consumerism, and blind ambition. But unlike other preachy tracks that lose musicality to messaging, this song manages to balance both seamlessly. The beat is jazzy and smooth, layered with steady percussion and a haunting loop that lingers. Hill’s flow is sharp, switching cadences and tempos with the confidence of a seasoned emcee.
This track demands repeat listens—not just for its lyrical richness but for its prophetic quality. In a society that still places wealth and fame above integrity, “Final Hour” feels like it was written not in 1998, but for this very moment. It’s a reminder that the clock is ticking, not just on our mortality, but on what we value and prioritize in life.
7. Forgive Them Father
“Forgive Them Father” is one of Lauryn Hill’s most quietly devastating tracks. It draws heavily from spiritual and biblical imagery, especially from the words of Jesus on the cross: “Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do.” But rather than preaching at listeners, Hill uses this spiritual frame to process betrayal, jealousy, and deception, particularly from those once considered close.
The track samples Bob Marley’s “Concrete Jungle,” adding a reggae foundation to Hill’s mix of sung verses and rapped bars. The contrast between the warmth of the instrumental and the cold sting of the lyrics makes for a powerful dynamic. “Beware the false motives of others,” she warns, “Be careful of those who pretend to be brothers.” It’s a song about betrayal, but also about resisting the temptation for revenge or hatred.
What makes “Forgive Them Father” so important today is its message of grace in the face of betrayal. In a culture increasingly obsessed with call-out culture, canceling, and retribution, Hill offers an alternative: the radical, healing act of forgiveness. That’s not to say she excuses wrongdoing—far from it. But she offers the listener a way forward that doesn’t compromise their own soul. It’s spiritual resistance at its finest.
Lauryn Hill’s discography may be small, but its impact is monumental. These seven tracks aren’t just songs—they’re lessons, reflections, and invocations. Her ability to blend genres, challenge conventions, and speak with such raw honesty is why her music remains not just relevant, but necessary. Each song reveals another layer of her genius and offers something to listeners in every era, particularly now, when authenticity is both rare and revered.
Even in 2025, Lauryn Hill’s voice cuts through the noise. Whether it’s through a tender ballad, a spiritual declaration, or a lyrical takedown, her songs demand that we feel, think, and grow. In a time where much of music is fleeting, Hill’s work endures—not just in playlists, but in hearts and minds.
Staff Writer; Jamar Jackson
