9 hours 22 minutes 18 seconds now loser

KTT gon lose their mind when they hear @Vietbrah on the intro

Soon soon come

Fanfic Papi Angel’s have arrived

What

Worst album art I’ve ever seen. Absolutely f***ing terrible

Name to post

bro mans really gonna drop it pon our heads without a tracklist????

Thank GOD we made it

a viet feature would be so hard not even joking

You staying up 4 it big man?

It’s coming any moment now 👀

What a new and refreshing opinion

Post more

Vai

not a chance, im listening in the morning hbu?

Bruh come on it’s Thursday y’all got to give this a rest

Yeah he jokes around a lot

who else got the balls to have a cover like this? not a single big artist

slow mode is great when you're trying to catch up on info

Yet again, it was another late, sleepless night in Atlanta. The studio was packed, yet intimate all at the same time. Warm amber lights washed over exotic leather furniture, creating a dimly lit sonic oasis. A sweet aroma of weed smoke clouded the air, while vanilla scented candles were strategically placed around the room. The mood developed into a haze of relaxation. As engineers and producers methodically worked the mixing boards, Future and the rest of his entourage nodded along to a rough take of a track that would later be called "Diamonds Dancing." Many individuals in the studio danced along while producers ran the track back, but there stood Drake in a dark corner, dissecting every piece of "Diamonds Dancing" with surgical precision. The track stopped playing, and Drake stepped from the shadows. He didn't speak much, but when he did, people listened.

"I'm going back in the booth, play that outro back."

Puzzled, the engineer began playing the outro instrumental back, not questioning Drake's demands. The room fell quiet as people began to observe. As the outro began to play, Drake put on a pair of monitor headphones, rubbed his beard and began to take a drink of a dark, murky substance. Closing his eyes, Drake began to flow freely.

"You doin' me dirty, you know. How we let it get like this I don't know. But that * can't save your soul, nah." Producers and entourage members in the studio began to look around the room to see if others were witnessing what was happening. Drake continued crooning into the microphone, while the mood became even darker in the studio.

"Doing me dirty, you doing me dirty. Haven't even heard from you. How can you live with yourself? Haven't even heard from you. How can you live with yourself? Ungrateful, ungrateful." The Engineer looked over to Future with concern. The engineer whispered, "should we stop him?" Future then put up one finger, as to silence the engineer while shaking his head, not taking his eyes off of Drake.

"Your momma be ashamed of you. I haven't even heard from you, not a single word from you, Ungrateful. I'm too good for you, too good for you. You should go back to him, perfect match for you, unstable." Candles in the studio began to flicker and die out, one by one, as if a spirit swept throughout the room.

"Doing me dirty. You're making me nervous. I haven't even heard from you. You look drained, you look exhausted, girl them late nights ain't good for you. Really starting to show on you. Don't hit me up when it's good for you. Ungrateful." By now, everyone had stopped what they were doing, all attention was focused on the darkened silhouette in the recording booth. Finishing up his final thoughts, Drake hung up the headphones, took another sip of muddy water, and crept out of the recording booth.

As he came back into the studio, all eyes followed his every movement. Drake retreated back to his shadowed corner, where he leaned against the wall with his fingers interlocked and pressed against his lips, as if in deep thought. The silence of the room created an uneasy tension. The uneasiness built more and more, as studio members waited for him to speak. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Play it back."

His best one imo

i had a potential job ask me to take a 1 hour assessment prior to even interviewing
nope'd outta there so fast