#DRAKE HYPE CHOPPED FULL#

That production, from OVO stalwarts like Noah '40' Shebib and Boi-1da, along with Tay Keith, Metro Boomin, rapper-turned-beatmaker Lil Yachty and many more, is sumptuous and intricate, full of tiny flourishes and details, hinging on recognizable mid-song beat switches and a pervasive sense of melancholy. The pair trade threats and out-of-pocket disses of virtually everyone they've ever encountered - other celebrities, groupies, friends, enemies, industry losers, total randos - over some of the best beats Drake's rapped on since 2015's If You're Reading This It's Too Late.

Instead, he takes a cue from 21 Savage and becomes everyone's arch nemesis, taking too big to fail to its logical conclusion. It's ugly, but it mostly works because it's a more targeted, focused version of his whole deal.Īfter more than a decade of cashing in on his supposed vulnerability, Drake knows he can't be the lovelorn underdog confined to the studio anymore his rise to megawatt stardom is not just a well-worn story, it's one he's exhausted.

His terror is more emotional: Where 21 Savage practices tried-and-true gun talk for the bulk of the album's runtime, Drake discards virtually all the sensitivity and empathy he's ever displayed for a steady stream of insults and glimpses of his naked interiority. He is far too maudlin to ever believably threaten anyone. 21 made a name for himself threatening his enemies in an extremely calm voice over impeccable production, while Drake is, by nature, not violently menacing. It is a fascinating example of what happens when two ideologically similar rappers with very different approaches try to meet each other in the middle. The pair's collaborative album, Her Loss, announced toward the end of the 'Jimmy Cooks' video, is a recognizable Drake album that gains some emotional heft from 21's inclusion. It would not be unreasonable to assume that that moment is what prompted Drake to enlist 21's support as he transitions back into his usual realm more antagonistic than ever. Most recently, 21 Savage out-rapped Drake on 'Jimmy Cooks,' the only straightforward rap track closing out Drake's dance music-focused album, Honestly, Nevermind. Up until now, it's been clear that Drake enjoys working with the straight-faced Atlanta rapper 21 Savage - who found success through a meat-and-potatoes combination of canny beat selection and a menacing and thin voice that rarely rises above a flat murmur - just as much as those other guys, but their creative give-and-take has been a bit murkier. Every single time Drake and Miami's faux kingpin Rick Ross link up, they create lush, sumptuous music that sounds like diving into a Scrooge McDuck-style pool of gold coins during a sunset so impossibly beautiful that your eyes can't even register it without Cartier shades. On 2015's What a Time to be Alive, a joint album with the tormented Atlanta rapper Future, the pair plumbed the depths of loneliness from the inside of opulent strip clubs. This feasting is an artistic method that casts him as a perpetual student of hip-hop in admiration of rap's trendsetters and legends, even as they become his peers. Each Drake collaboration is creative sustenance. Drake has become rap's own Galactus, subsuming bits of his collaborators' traits - a flow here, a vocal intonation there, maybe an accent or an entire worldview - into his persona. In 1966, writer Stan Lee and artist Jack Kirby, the creative team at the center of the golden era of Marvel Comics, created Galactus, a massive alien god who travels the universe in a hulking purple helmet, consuming entire planets in order to keep himself alive. Despite the churlishness, or maybe because of it, Drake sounds, for the first time in a long time, like he's actually enjoying rapping.

Drake hype chopped