Why Kendrick Lamar’s GNX Is Cooler Than Any Modern Supercar

And the award for most nominations at this year’s Grammy celebration goes to…. Kendrick Lamar and his album GNX! Lamar actually dropped GNX on November 22, 2024, as a surprise follow up to the greatest rap feud of, sadly, the past few decades. GNX’s three letter title cuts down on 2017’s DAMN., which launched Lamar to superstardom with a more produced sound and focused aggression than the previous two albums To Pimp a Butterfly and good kid, m.A.A.d city.

That feud and GNX’s success eventually led to a Super Bowl performance in February of 2025, where production quality as usual for a halftime show detracted from the stunningly powerful political protest and racial justice themes that dominate Lamar’s lyrics. Just ask Uncle Sam (L. Jackson). But at that show, as well as on GNX’s contrasty album cover, a murdered-out American classic car from Buick was featured. 

Now, as Lamar potentially takes home nine awards for GNX, seems like a good time to ask what, exactly, a GNX is and why a nearly 40-year-old Buick is still relevant at all. Ahead of the Grammy weekend, I met up with Gerardo Chora, a diehard turbo Buick fan and the man who actually sold Lamar his GNX back in late 2023.

All I Ever Wanted Was a Black Grand National

Though this is Chora’s fifth GNX, his own Buick story traces back to the 1990s and early-2000s when his brothers gifted him a 1985 Regal at the age of 16. But the family soon took the car away and swapped it out for a Blazer, worried Chora might get mistaken for a gangbanger in the iconized Buick. Giving and then taking clearly fostered the obsession, so after fixing up and selling an '87 Monte Carlo, Chora then picked up his first turbo G-body chassis, an 1986 Buick Regal T-Type.

The story continues as Chora hustled across the country, from sub-zero frozen temps in Chicago to the Southwestern desert. His current GNX came out of North Carolina, where a friend bought it from the original owner. And therein lies one of the GNX’s best traits all these decades later: Most remain in spectacular condition precisely because original owners tended to hold onto the rare run of just 547 originals for long periods, while driving them infrequently and treating them like royalty (pun fully intended).

“Back in the days, these GNX cars were so special and so hard to get that you had to be somebody in order for you to even purchase this car,” Chora said. “With inflation, it's like a Dodge Demon today. You’re talking about $35,000 or $40,000 back in '87, which is like $130,000 now these days.”

The GNX’s relative rarity, as well as that dark and ominous presence, capped off serious clout for any of the boxy Buicks, though.

“Growing up in L.A., in the neighborhood, you know, a G-body was the thing to own,” Chora continued. “If you were to have a Grand National, you were the man, you know. But if you had a GNX, now you were The Man.”

Black wire wheels, black fender flares, that lowrider stance and seating position—everything lent to the G-body mystique. But the GNX in particular took performance to a new level, a concept that emerged after Buick found success in Nascar’s Grand National racing series through 1981 and 1982. To up the ante, GM sent 574 Regals to ASC McLaren in Livonia, Michigan, where a team of racing engineers transformed Grand Nationals into what became known as the Grand National Experimental, or GNX.

Give 'Em What They Asked For

For context, a base Regal featured a naturally aspirated 231ci V6 engine good for a paltry 125 horsepower. ASC bolted on a big Garrett turbo with a ceramic impeller, turned the boost up to 15 psi, added an air-to-air intercooler, and opened up the exhaust with high-flow mufflers. The result more than doubled horsepower output to a thumping 276 horsepower and an even beefier 360 lb-ft of torque. 

With an uprated TH200-4R automatic transmission, plus a longitudinal torque bar, panhard rod, and track rod to keep the solid rear axle planted, the GNX managed a quarter-mile time of 12.7 seconds at a trap speed of 113 miles per hour—famously faster than a Ferrari F40 by three-tenths of a second. That’s partially because Buick almost certainly underrated the GNX, in similar fashion as the so-called “Japanese gentlemen’s agreement” that would limit many iconic cars in the following decades to a surely-not-coincidental 276 horsepower also.

Independent dyno testing showed the GNX more realistically crested over 300 horsepower and 400 lb-ft of torque when new. Whether Chora’s car—just under 40 years later and with just over 12,000 miles on the clock—can manage that kind of grunt, I can’t say. But the design sure never went out of style. Low smoggy light reflecting off the crisp black paint job and trim, those wide fender flares with black wire wheels tucked beneath, all the GNX badging and decals…. The GNX looks mean from any angle.

Sit Down, Be Humble

Climbing inside GNX chassis number 184, I sunk into the plush seats by a few more inches than expected. Not quite corduroy, with low headrests emblazoned with turbocharger-inspired embroidery, the interior upholstery took me straight back to Cadillacs that my grandpa owned in my formative years. I wound up driving a couple of those Caddies once I got my license, but as soon as I pulled out with Chora in the passenger seat, I knew we’d come a long way from those ungainly boats.

Chora always looks for and keeps every GNX bone stock, since collectors naturally prize originality. The only concessions to age sit atop the dash and the steering column, the former protected by another embroidered piece of carpeting and the latter where a little digital screen within a stock-appearance housing provides better rpm and engine temps than the antique idiot gauges. Still, even at almost four-decades old, the suspension rides a little tighter than I expected, the steering certainly not precise but with a nice weighted resistance to it. The visibility's even excellent, a good thing as I adjusted to the GNX since the tiny side mirrors barely make a difference.

But obviously, the souped-up powertrain emerges quickly as the GNX’s highlight. Exhaust grumbly and echoic at all times, whether idling or in traffic, torque everywhere at every rpm. Once the temps rose and I found some open stretches of wide roads to floor it, the turbo spooling up and screaming with a sharp whine would bring a chuckle to even dedicated tuner boys. And then the swell of boost grows and grows, sharp shifts from the uprated gearbox—not some normal 1980s slushbox torque converter by any means—the GNX sure boogies along.

Maybe the biggest surprise? This 1980s Buick feels fairly light. Maybe the lack of so much modern electronics explains the sensation. Just look at that stereo head unit. But even the brakes worked fairly solidly with relatively modern pedal feel. Of course, nobody will mistake a GNX for a svelte sports car—even 245- and 255-millimeter tires that looked beefy in period but scant today can provide enough grip to rollick the 3,545-pound chassis about when pushing a little harder.

Instead, we’re about straight line speed, that American drag racing and Nascar heritage, all swaddled in cushy comfort. Even the air conditioning still blows cold on a warm South L.A. morning. And Chora agrees. He loves cruising with the family, even calls the GNX more comfortable for moderate road trips than his CTS-V wagon with four doors. I remark that with Buick on a serious backslide lately, those V and Blackwing Caddies sort of represent the GNX’s spiritual successor. And yet still, none can match such sheer presence. Even in L.A. rush hour, people do stop and stare.

If Only Money Grew on Trees

Chora and I cruised around and snapped some pics, even swung by the burger stand where Lamar filmed the Not Like Us music video. Understandably, Chora can’t share much about the actual deal itself—but confirms he remembers the day well because it was his son’s birthday in late 2023, and Lamar Facetimed the boy to apologize for keeping dad delayed on business. That timing stands out, since it tracks well before the Drake feud blew up and more than a year before GNX the album debuted.

“The people that knew about Grand Nationals knew what the cars were,” Chora said. “But now there’s more people since Kendrick came out with GNX, they wanna know, ‘What is that car?’”

Of course, Lamar regularly shares that his parents brought him home from the hospital in a Grand National. And now I’ve driven just about an identical twin of the car that appeared on the album cover and Super Bowl in honor of those memories. Chora’s GNX might have a few thousand more miles on the odometer, since he enjoys his fifth regularly—though of course, we also don’t know how much Lamar has driven his in the past two-plus years, either.

Since the album’s surprise debut, demand and recognition for the cars have clearly skyrocketed. Hagerty’s valuation tool shows a small but not insignificant bump in values, with a rise starting around the album’s debut and climaxing around the Super Bowl. Especially for Condition 2 cars, which Hagerty defines as "like new" inside and out, or "close to it” and started just under $150,000 and wound up plateauing nearer to $200,000 after the publicity. Similar bumps appear in valuation tool searches, which more than tripled the week of the halftime show performance, too. 

There’s actually a Regal called the Turbo-T that’s even more powerful and rarer—but the GNX remains far more popular and valuable amid rising demand, as well as owners who increasingly don’t want to sell.

“Even people that didn't know who Kendrick was, when the car came out for the Super Bowl, now they want a Grand National,” he laughed, before adding, “So yes, the prices did go up because of that, but it's not my fault.”

“I feel lucky to own one, you know?” he said. “There’s some GNXs out there that were raced, but not that many. Most of the people knew these cars were going to go up in value by the day. I just feel proud, and want to be able to help people to live their dreams.”

Chora himself, a man in the business of selling cars, doesn’t plan to sell his GNX—unless the right offer comes along, of course. And in the world of customs, modding a less rare Grand National or even a Regal into a GNX clone isn’t too hard of a job—though an anathema to the true believers. For those hoping to join the movement, keep an eye out for the plate stamped "GNX" below the windshield cowl ahead of the steering wheel. Because now more than ever, after a morning with Chora getting to know the GNX culture, cruising in an authentic original truly feels special.