Jul 4, 2025·2 replies
Jul 4, 2025https://twitter.com/purple4matter/status/1941252102711636419https://twitter.com/purple4matter/status/1941253279826182347
JbreezyondeckWho is this
what if is an album....
Jul 4, 2025
doot dootYet 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."
CLA$$IC
Jul 4, 2025doot dootYet 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."
Jul 4, 2025Chinese takeaway has arrived BOSCHHHHHH
Jul 4, 2025doot dootYet 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."
- Jul 4, 2025
Not a single word from you
- Jul 4, 2025doot doot
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."
On a cold Tuesday night Viet was at mini golf in the pouring rain trying to work on his short game, suddenly out of nowhere chubbs called saying they drove by and saw he wasn’t wearing any mittens.
This worried chubbs as he doesn’t like his friends being cold
But the twist is drake was in Chubbs car and he luckily had his lucky golf glove on him. They got out the car jumped the fence in a beautiful left leg first jump to meet Viet in hole 5 (par 3).
Viet shocked and stunned was silent but he got the courage to murmur the word “signature” but all he had was the gold pen that he gets to mark the sheet with his score on.
Drake signed the glove and walked off Viet fell to his knees knowing he now has power over the ovo community to beg with the glove when they don’t believe him.@vietbrah will confirm the story is real
- Jul 4, 2025https://twitter.com/GordoSZN/status/1941266711975690311HudsonMantin
Jul 4, 2025·1 replyhttps://twitter.com/GordoSZN/status/1941266711975690311HudsonMantinif gordo has any credits on this record
Jul 4, 2025🧊
bmass 🇵🇭Jul 4, 2025·2 repliesChatGPT runnin this thread rn
- Jul 4, 2025bmass
ChatGPT runnin this thread rn
And WINNING
- Jul 4, 2025
Jul 4, 2025relapsed bisexualif gordo has any credits on this record
- Jul 4, 2025bmass
ChatGPT runnin this thread rn
I created the golf story with my thumbs guiding me
- Jul 4, 2025
Super Drake
Jul 4, 2025·1 replyWhen it turns out to be a brand new Stake ad
- Jul 4, 2025thegreatdivine
When it turns out to be a brand new Stake ad
- Jul 4, 2025
Ktt2 admins have just messaged me saying get on a private browser, things are changing on this website after 9
Jul 4, 2025
Who has the no sleep OWL pic
Jul 4, 2025Yo, my name’s Chad. Just a regular dude from Scarborough, Ontario, who’s been streaming Drake’s discography since So Far Gone dropped. I’m talking “Successful” on repeat while I’m folding laundry at 2 a.m. kinda dedication. So, when I won a radio contest to visit OVO Sound’s studio in Toronto to hear Drake’s new single “What’d I Miss” before the world, I lost it. Like, full-on screaming in my mom’s basement, knocking over a stack of empty Tim Hortons cups. This was my Super Bowl, my Oscars, my moment.
Fast forward to a chilly March evening, 2025. I’m standing outside this sleek, blacked-out building with an OVO owl logo so subtle you’d miss it if you blinked. My palms are sweaty, my Leafs hoodie’s too tight, and I’m clutching my phone like it’s my last lifeline. The security guard, this mountain of a dude named Reggie, gives me a once-over. “You Chad?” he grumbles. I nod so hard my neck cracks. He sighs, mutters something about “contest winners,” and lets me in.
Inside, it’s like stepping into a sci-fi movie. Dim lights, marble floors, and a faint scent of sandalwood and vibes. I’m escorted to the studio by this intern, Kayla, who’s got AirPods in and doesn’t even look at me. She’s probably heard “Hotline Bling” a million times and is over it. Me? I’m geeking out, imagining Drake sliding in on a hoverboard or something.The studio itself is nuts. There’s a mixing board the size of my Corolla, a couch that looks like it costs more than my rent, and a fridge stocked with Fiji water and… is that kombucha? I’m too nervous to touch anything, so I just stand there, hands in pockets, trying not to knock over a Grammy on the shelf. Then, he walks in. Aubrey. Drizzy. The 6 God himself.
Drake’s in a cream OVO tracksuit, looking like he just stepped out of a skincare ad. He’s got this aura, like he’s glowing but also chill. “Yo, Chad, right?” he says, dapping me up. His hand’s so soft I almost apologize for my calluses from my warehouse job. “You ready to hear somethin’ crazy?” I mumble, “Uh, yeah, bro, I mean, sir, I mean, Drake.” He laughs, but it’s that polite laugh you give your weird cousin at Thanksgiving. I’m already sweating through my hoodie.
He sits at the mixing board, cues up the track, and leans back. “This one’s called ‘What’d I Miss.’ It’s about, like, being gone for a minute but comin’ back to see what’s changed. Deep, but it slaps.” I nod like I’m a***yzing Nietzsche, but really, I’m just trying not to fart from the Tim Hortons I crushed on the way here.The beat drops. Oh. My. God. It’s like Metro Boomin and 40 had a baby with a trap drum machine and sprinkled some Toronto slang on top. These hi-hats are crisp, the bassline’s hitting my soul, and then Drake’s voice slides in: “I was gone for a sec, what’d I miss? / Y’all still fightin’ over who got the drip?” I’m losing it. My head’s bobbing so hard I look like a dashboard bobblehead. I glance at Drake, and he’s smirking, like, “Yeah, I know it’s fire.”
But here’s where it gets unintentionally hilarious. I’m so hyped, I start rapping along—except I don’t know the lyrics yet. So, I’m just yelling gibberish, like, “What’d I miss, uh, somethin’ ’bout a wrist!” Drake’s eyebrow goes up. Kayla, the intern, chokes on her kombucha. I don’t notice because I’m in the zone, throwing in ad-libs like I’m Lil Wayne. “Skrrt! Yuh! OVO!” I even do a little dance, which is basically me flailing like I’m swatting bees.
Mid-verse, I trip over a cable and crash into the couch, spilling a Fiji water all over myself. The room goes silent except for the track still blasting: “Took a break, now I’m back with the hits.” I’m soaked, my Leafs hoodie’s clinging to me like a sad seal, and I’m sprawled across the couch like I just auditioned for a rom-com pratfall. Drake’s trying not to laugh, but his mouth’s twitching. “You good, Chad?” he asks, voice all smooth but definitely amused.
“Y-yeah, just, uh, feelin’ the vibes,” I stammer, sitting up and pretending I meant to do that. Kayla’s filming on her phone now, probably for the OVO TikTok. Great. I’m about to be a meme.Drake, being the class act he is, rewinds the track. “Let’s run it back. Chad, you wanna chill this time?” I nod, mortified, and stay glued to the couch. The second listen is even better. The wordplay’s insane—Drake’s dropping lines about IG trends, crypto scams, and even a sly jab at some unnamed rapper who “fumbled the bag.” “Left the game on read, now I’m scrollin’ through / Y’all still postin’ quotes like it’s 2022.” I’m cackling, but I keep it internal this time. No more dance moves.
After the song ends, Drake asks, “What you think, Chad?” I’m ready to give a TED Talk, but all I manage is, “It’s, like, Take Care meets Scorpion but with, uh, more sauce.” He nods, like he’s actually considering my nonsense. “Sauce, huh? I like that.” I’m beaming, feeling like I just co-wrote the track.
Then, the unintentional comedy strikes again. I ask for a selfie, but my phone’s so old it takes blurry pics. I’m fumbling, trying to get the camera to focus, and Drake’s just standing there, posing patiently like a saint. Finally, I get a shot, but I accidentally hit the front-facing camera, so it’s just my sweaty, panicked face and half of Drake’s shoulder. “Classic,” Drake says, clapping my back. I want to die.
Before I leave, he hands me an OVO hoodie—not the one I ruined—and signs my Leafs hat. “Keep reppin’ the 6, Chad,” he says. I’m floating. Kayla escorts me out, still smirking, and I hear her mutter, “This guy’s a legend.” Pretty sure she’s being sarcastic, but I’ll take it.
Back home, I blast “What’d I Miss” when it drops officially, and it’s a banger worldwide. X is wild with reactions—people are quoting the “scrollin’ through” line like it’s gospel. I check TikTok, and yup, there’s a clip of me flopping onto the couch with the caption “When you hear Drake’s new joint too hard.” It’s got 2 million views. My boys at the warehouse are calling me “Sauce Chad” now.
Was it embarrassing? Yeah. Was it the best day of my life? Absolutely. Drake, if you’re reading this, sorry about the couch. And thanks for the sauce.
Jul 4, 2025
John Mauve
Why do you even type in to get this?
- bmass 🇵🇭Jul 4, 2025John Mauve
Powerful
Jul 4, 2025somebody loves me music vid with album announcement at the end of it?
like for her loss