He Never Left; You Just Got Distracted
By now, the internet has spent the better part of a decade debating a question that should have an obvious answer: Is Drake one of the greatest of all time? The answer isn’t found in think pieces, viral tweets, or whatever arbitrary criteria his critics keep moving. It’s in the music. And if there was ever a moment where Drake needed to remind people of the gap between “good” and “all-time great,” $$4U does exactly that.
From the moment Raining in Houston plays, it’s clear this isn’t just another album cycle—it’s a statement. A course correction. For years, the idea that Drake needed some kind of co-sign, backup, or validation from the internet was floated around like it had weight. Maybe even Drake himself believed it at times. But here? He comes out swinging with the confidence of someone who never needed to prove a damn thing in the first place.
The Kendrick Question: A Great Rapper vs. A Great Career
Much of $$4U plays like a direct response to Kendrick Lamar—not in the traditional diss track sense, but in something much more lethal: a showcase of consistency. While Lamar is good, his all-time great status is questionable at best. The distance between releases, scattered output, and long hiatuses make his dominance feel more like a series of moments rather than an era. Meanwhile, Drake has continued to lap the competition, dropping at a rate that should be unsustainable—except, somehow, it isn’t.
Drake finally did what he should’ve done all along: let the music talk. Not lawsuits. Not Instagram captions. Not debates about charts. Just music. And the music is undeniable.
Take Raining in Houston, a track that sees Drake float over production that sounds both cinematic and effortlessly intimate. PartyNextDoor is officially listed as a feature, but this isn’t a necessary assist—it’s more like an insurance policy. PND is there to add depth, but Drake’s presence alone is the real headline. It’s reminiscent of those old debates about whether Kobe Bryant needed Shaq, only for Kobe to go out and win two rings without him. Drake on Raining in Houston is that version of Kobe—the one that has nothing left to prove, but still drops 40 just because he can.
Even Kanye Couldn’t Deny It
But if Raining in Houston is the victory lap, Gimme a Hug is the track that stopped everyone in their tracks—including Kanye West. Say what you want about Ye, but one thing is true: he knows greatness when he hears it. And for all his public meltdowns, questionable allegiances, and ego-driven feuds, even he had to admit the song was special.
In a candid moment on social media, Kanye confessed:
“I SAW A VIDEO OF DRAKE WALKING THROUGH HIS HOUSE AND SHOWING HE HAD A LIBRARY OF RHYME BOOKS MAN I WISH I COULD HAVE SEEN AND REMEMBERED THIS WHEN MY JEALOUSY OVERTOOK ME … I LOVE DRAKE IMA SAY THIS WHEN I DIE I NEED YOU TO SPEAK AT ME FUNERAL”
This admission is monumental. For someone as notoriously prideful as Kanye to openly acknowledge past jealousy and express a desire for Drake to eulogize him speaks volumes about the impact of Gimme a Hug. It’s a testament to the track’s brilliance that it could evoke such a profound reaction from a peer who has oscillated between rivalry and camaraderie with Drake.
The Attempted ‘Elimination’
However, this moment of humility contrasts sharply with Kanye’s earlier stance. In April 2024, during the release of the “Like That” remix, Kanye openly expressed his enthusiasm about challenging Drake’s position in the rap game. He stated:
“You know, everybody was very, very excited about the elimination of Drake. Not excited—we was energized.”
This remark underscores the competitive nature of the industry and highlights the shifting dynamics between artists. Yet, despite these attempts to undermine him, Drake’s response was not through public disputes but through his music.
Legacy Solidified
At this point, the argument isn’t about whether Drake belongs in the all-time conversation. That’s settled. What $$4U proves is that the internet’s narrative had more bark than bite. Drake was never “falling off.” He was never in need of a savior. He was never playing from behind.
He just got tired of letting the noise dictate the conversation.
And so, he did what true greats do: reminded everyone, without saying a word, why they belong in rare air.