Drake Has Become the Unpredictable Lover He Sings About
We can't take it anymore, Drizzy.
Photo by Ed Carrasco
Dear 6 God,
Why have you forsaken us? You know us, the streets? The ones you said you could never ever let down? I know you left your condo last week. You were here in Miami celebrating New Year's Eve at E11even just a short drive from where you used to live. I heard you performed “Hotline Bling.” I trust you treated the strippers with kindness and respect, all while showering them in dead presidents. You asked us to please excuse your table manners, because, after all, you were making room for the table dancers. And we did. But what have you given us in return?
Wednesday was Drake day, or so it was rumored to be, as all the internets large and wide believed you'd grace us with another stellar album. I woke up that day like it was Christmas morning, but it turned out to be the furthest thing. You've been working on Views From the 6 for what feels like forever, at least two years now. I know you still take your time with all this shit, and I'm not downplaying your status as a legend. You're the most prolific rapper of your generation. You so graciously bestow upon us single after single. You gave us two amazing albums in one year, and they don't have no award for that. The mope-ridden turn-down opus that is If You're Reading This It's Too Late was an incredible surprise. What a Time to Be Alive with Future has been running through my mind since it dropped, but Jumpman, you know your hordes of fans are never satisfied.
It's hard at the top, but heavy is the head. We want to hear your shit back to back. Drizzy, you practically promised.
If this is supposed to be another of those surprise albums, please spare us. It's no surprise at all when we know it's coming. Even Wikipedia had a false “released” date of 1/6/16. I refreshed the internet all day yesterday, pining over any word of a new meme-able anthem. Alas, as the hours ticked down from a.m. to p.m., my hopes went from 100 to 0 real quick in extended and painful agony.
Am I not a good girl who knows it, Drake? Am I not a good girl who deserves a new album without this emotional peek-a-boo you're playing with us right now?
I'm not trying to kill your energy; I'm just trying to see some dreams money can buy come true. I get lonely too, Aubrey. Every girl wants a new dose of the D. My roommate has taken to rewatching old episodes of Degrassi to get her fix, but your acting days are over, and I'm trying to focus on your new shit.
I can't handle this anxiety. I'm so far gone, all charged up, and where ya at? I'm starting to develop trust issues. I thought you were going to take care of us. I thought our time had finally come, and I know in the end, we'll be fine. I just want some shiny new machine-gun raps, and when the time comes, it will be right. You're fucking with me mentally, but I guess that's just the motion. I wanted to thank you today, but I'll just have to thank you later.
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The 305 (AKA your adopted city).
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