He climbed back into the car and grabbed the mic. He didn't want to rap about his watches or his mansions. He wanted to rap about the fear of losing it all—the feeling of being at the top but still having the soul of a kid who had to fight for his place in a room full of legends. "Turn it up," Aubrey said, his voice dropping an octave.
A group of kids was gathered at a bus stop across the street, huddled over a phone. They weren't listening to his latest chart-topper. They were laughing at a viral video of someone mocking his "rich boy" problems. Drake Broke Boy
The beat kicked in, and for the first time in years, he didn't sound like a superstar. He sounded like a man who knew exactly what it meant to have everything—and still feel like he had nothing at all. He climbed back into the car and grabbed the mic
"Imagine being that rich and still acting like you're from the mud," one of them laughed. "Turn it up," Aubrey said, his voice dropping an octave
Suddenly, the SUV pulled up to a familiar, unassuming house in Forest Hill. It was the place where he grew up with his mother , dreaming of being something more than a teen actor. He stepped out, the cool night air hitting his face.
"You sound too rich on this, Dra," his producer muttered, adjusted the levels. "The fans want that hunger. That 'before the Degrassi checks' energy."
Drake pulled his hoodie lower. He realized that no matter how many Billboard records he broke, there was always a part of him—the "Broke Boy" who felt he had something to prove—that would never leave. Even Eminem had warned him that the tides could turn, and the same fans who crowned him could eventually turn him into a meme. The New Verse