In essence, Drake makes a great wifey—in fact, he hasn’t played a role this convincingly since he was a teenage paraplegic.But Drake gets himself into trouble when he trades his self-imposed servitude for the single life.
From Nicki to Rihanna to Serena, Drake is reduced to a powerless heart-eyes emoji in the presence of beautiful, powerful black women.
Of course, Bill and Hill met at Yale Law School, and (probably) didn’t share their first kiss at a trendy club-cum-bowling alley.
And unlike our former Secretary of State, Rihanna doesn’t have to smile and nod politely whenever a chatty idiot tries to occupy her spotlight.
There’s Courtney from Hooters on Peachtree, Porsche from Treasures, Maliah and Chyna. He can barely go a verse without dropping the names of his favorite exotic dancers. Where other rappers might summarize a few sexual positions and call it a day, Drake’s songwriting approach is more akin to dream journaling.
Drake’s fantasies extend way beyond the bedroom—he wants to pay his girlfriends’ college tuition bills, ask them to move in with him, and force them to quit their day jobs.