The BET Awards turned 25 this year, and if there was ever a question about its cultural relevance, this milestone show silenced it — loud, raw, and unfiltered. What unfolded inside the Peacock Theater in Los Angeles was a pointed, multi-layered demonstration of what it means to speak, sing, and survive in America as a Black artist in 2025.

From the moment Kevin Hart cracked open the ceremony with a barrage of roast-style jokes aimed at Diddy’s legal woes and gospel legend Kirk Franklin’s now-infamous on-stage twerking, the tone was set: irreverent, reflective, and ready to shake the room.

But the night belonged to Doechii.

The Swamp Princess takes her crown again! Standing ovation please for the #BETAwards Best Female Hip Hop Artist, @officialdoechii 👑 In case you couldn't tell, we're your biggest fan! pic.twitter.com/7hmQJ3LZ58

— #BETAwards (@BETAwards) June 10, 2025

Fresh off her Grammy win for Best Rap Album — a feat only two women before her have achieved — she made history again, this time with a speech that might outlast the trophy itself. Accepting the award for Best Female Hip-Hop Artist, Doechii didn’t bask in praise or get lost in thank-yous. Instead, she zoomed out — way out — to address the growing fear in communities affected by immigration raids and violent protest crackdowns, just miles away from the glitter of the stage.

“There are ruthless attacks that are creating fear and chaos in our communities in the name of law and order,” she said, her words landing with a shiver-inducing clarity. Her defiance, naming names and calling out the military’s role in protest suppression, cracked through the ceremony’s celebratory surface. It was the kind of moment that makes you sit up straighter. This wasn’t posturing. This was protest in real time.

And the show didn’t let up.

The Ultimate Icon Award — BET’s answer to a lifetime achievement nod, but with more soul — was handed out to four cultural titans: Jamie Foxx, Mariah Carey, Snoop Dogg, and Kirk Franklin. Each moment came with its own emotional charge, but it was Foxx’s speech that turned the night inward. Visibly moved, still recovering from a 2023 stroke, Foxx said what many survivors think but few say aloud: “When I saw the memoriam, I was like, ‘Man, that could’ve been me.’”

His voice cracked, his daughters cried. And Stevie Wonder — yes, that Stevie Wonder — handed him the award. If that doesn’t scream gravitas, nothing does.

Snoop, ever the elder statesman of West Coast cool, used his moment to uplift and reflect: “Hip-hop gave me a voice. It gave me a purpose.” No one doubted that. He’s still that Long Beach kid with global reach. And Mariah Carey, who surprisingly revealed it was her first-ever BET Award win, got real about self-worth, fame, and finally doing it for herself. One could almost hear the emancipation echoing.

Musically, the stage never stopped breathing. Performances from Lil Wayne, GloRilla, Teyana Taylor, Babyface, and Doug E. Fresh offered both nostalgia and heat. Kendrick Lamar, fresh off Grammy dominance and his history-making Super Bowl halftime show, nabbed Album of the Year for GNX. The win felt expected but earned — Lamar is on a different wavelength, and the industry knows it.

And then came the 106 & Park tribute — a wild, time-warping ride through the early 2000s. Bow Wow, B2K, Mya, Amerie — they all showed up to remind us that yes, we were once teenagers watching videos on countdowns. For a show that’s made its bones on what’s next, this nod to where it all began was bittersweet and beautiful.

There were, of course, cracks in the glitter. The show ran long — five hours. Some bits dragged. And while Hart’s jokes mostly landed, his style still felt like old-school stand-up tossed into a Gen Z crowd. But that’s nitpicking.

Twenty-five years in, the BET Awards are still evolving, still mattering. Maybe even more than ever.