I found a dissertation on the internet that predicted this all
A Descent into Certified Lover Boyhood: A Rap Theologue Deconstructs the Heisenbergian Transformation of Aubrey "Drake" Graham
Ah, Drake. A name that elicits groans from the discerning rap scholar, a trigger word for those who remember him not as a chart-topping behemoth, but as the awkward Degrassi kid, Jimmy Brooks. This essay will delve into the metamorphosis of Drake, a transformation as dramatic as Walter White's descent from mild-mannered chemistry teacher to crystal meth kingpin Heisenberg.
From Degrassi Basement to Billboard Penthouse:
The Heisenbergian Ego Trip
Much like Walter White, initially a man of measured politeness, Drake began with a persona of wholesome Canadian innocence. Yet, a hunger for power – chart-topping power in this case – brewed beneath the surface. Where White donned the Heisenberg hat and sunglasses, Drake cultivated the perma-puff jacket and the brooding billionaire scowl. Both men cultivated an air of mystique, surrounding themselves with yes-men and metaphorical enforcers (think Jesse Pinkman vs. Drake's entourage, theOVO Sound).
Lyricism as Blue Sky: A Descent from Purity
Early Drake, much like the nascent blue meth Walt cooked, possessed a certain purity. His raps, while not earth-shattering, had a relatable awkwardness. But then, the commercialization began. Drake's lyrics, once infused with teenage angst, became a monotonous whine about first-world problems – jet lag and mansion woes replacing struggles relatable to the common man. This shift echoes the tragic decline of Walt's product. The initial, high-quality meth became mass-produced, blue-tinted mediocrity, a pale shadow of its former brilliance.
The Echoes of Heisenbergian Hubris
Both Walter White and Drake, in their respective pursuits of power, succumbed to a monstrous arrogance. White's "I am the one who knocks" became a mantra for his reign of terror. Drake's self-proclaimed status as the "6 God" reeks of the same delusional grandeur.
A Conclusion Steeped in Bitterness (and Maybe a Glimmer of Hope)
One can only hope that Drake, like a fallen Heisenberg cornered by the DEA, will one day experience a comeuppance. Perhaps a diss track so vicious it will shatter his carefully constructed image. Or maybe, just maybe, a return to the introspective honesty of his Degrassi days. Until then, we, the rap scholars, must endure the certified-lover-boy-gangster facade, a pale imitation of the once-promising artist we thought Drake could be.
-Fred