The 25 Best Drake Songs of All Time

The song that thrust him into the mainstream stratosphere, “Best I Ever Had” is early Drake at his peak powers, proficient in marrying the cadences of rap with sultry R&B melodies. Amid the mixtape craze around the 2010s, he included the Boi-1da-produced “Best I Ever Had” on his breakthrough “So Far Gone” and released it as its first single, accenting his knack for finding unique melodic pockets within complex beats. “Best I Ever Had” felt obvious as a hit at the time, given the groundwork laid in the lead-up to the track, but nearly 20 years later, its palpability is a testament to its longevity. — Horowitz

Over a 40 beat that deftly blends nostalgia and menace, Drake previewed his top-of-game flow in a loose track before “Take Care” dropped. Despite not sitting on an album proper, Drake makes a dive into his mind seem effortless. “I want Saudi money, I want art money / I want women to cry and pour out they heart for me,” he raps at the song’s beginning, one foot in his still-hungry era, later lamenting that “my favorite rappers either lost it or they ain’t alive” and that he’ll inevitably be carrying the industry on his back. It’s Drake as fortune teller, and his verses are juxtaposed by Jai Paul sweetly delivering a hypnotizing hook that would soon become a mantra for the increasingly hardened Drake: “Don’t fuck with me.” — William Earl

“I got enemies, got a lot of enemies,” Drake raps in the opening bars of “Energy,” then proceeding to unload a clip on fake friends and foes — those who “talk down” on him and threaten to “run up on” him. The track, a standout from his minimalistic 2015 sensation “If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late,” is compelling in that it paints Drake as both braggadocious and slightly paranoid. And the beat — a menacing piano riff over cold bass synths — is a prime example of how a producer can do a lot with a little. — Ethan Shanfeld

The beat of “Feel No Ways” is hypnotic, its harsh digital drums threatening to knock you off balance, while melancholic, ‘80s-inspired synths fill a warm bath for Drake to swim in. He’s bitter about a soured relationship: “There’s more to life than sleeping in and getting high with you,” he raps. “I had to let go of us to show myself what I could do.” Nestled in an album that touts upbeat hits like “Hotline Bling” and “One Dance,” “Feel No Ways” is one of Drake’s moodiest — and subtly catchiest — reflections on love lost. — Shanfeld

“Find Your Love” is co-produced by Kanye West, and you can hear the remnants of “808s and Heartbreaks” all over the track. Moody verses (“I’m more than just a number”) are buttoned up with a catchy “hey, hey, hey” before melting into a sticky-sweet chorus: “I better find your loving, I better find your heart.” An early R&B hit from Drake, “Find Your Love” proved he didn’t need flashy bars; he could dominate the airwaves with just a simple hook. — Shanfeld

Is there anything more quintessentially Drake than him telling a girl, “I only love my bed and my mama, I’m sorry?” And yet, in the context of “God’s Plan,” he makes it work in a hypnotic, singsong flow that threads through the song. There’s a sort of aimlessness to “God’s Plan” that really highlights the freestyle nature of Drake’s delivery — it’s at once a sort of lullaby and a tune that could easily pop off at the function. That’s the duality of Drake: unable to leave his emotions at the door, but fully capable of wielding them to great effect. — Horowitz

Following the success of his official debut album “Thank Me Later,” Drake took the victory lap approach with “Headlines,” the lead single off his sophomore record “Take Care.” And from the jump, he makes it known that he’s cleared the next level of his career: “I might be too strung out on compliments, overdosed on confidence,” he raps. “Headlines” came at a moment in time where he had little to prove in his ascent to one of rap’s most iconic titans, yet he sure seemed to relish it. — Horowitz

“Hold On, We’re Going Home” is Crooner Drake at his best. With an assist from R&B pop duo Majid Jordan, the song evokes the smooth texture of ‘80s soul with an irresistible melody. “I want your hot love and emotion endlessly,” Drake sings over a crackling drumbeat. The song was one of his first major crossover hits, showcasing his vocals without the flash of a rap verse. The best part of the track is that unlike many Drake songs, it’s a pure love song — he’s not yearning for his muse; he’s already got her in his arms. — Shanfeld

As smooth and sugary as a Piña Colada at Chilis, Drake’s lite island anthem “Hotline Bling” feels like one of the last gasps of monoculture. Endlessly memed, covered by artists from Sufjan Stevens to Billie Eilish, and parodied on “Saturday Night Live” by now-President Trump, the cultural impact it made feels antithetical to a breezy moment in Drake’s discography. After all, “Hotline Bling” started life as a loose single, only to end up as a bonus track on 2016’s “Views,” destined to sit in tropical riddim playlists forever more. — Earl

A woozy tribute to drunk texting, Drake displays unbelievable breath control with his lengthy, rapid-fire verse, in which a good girl asks him about his empty life and sends him into a tailspin. Surprisingly, Lil Wayne joins for a similarly-paced verse which finds him in rare storyteller mode, dropping his free association to rap about a woman he’s fallen in too deep with. T-Minus’ driving beat delivers the perfect ticking clock for the Young Money BFFs’ move into beast mode. Bonus points for the fun Bar Mitzvah-themed music video featuring Birdman, DJ Khaled, E-40 and more. — Earl

Only Drake would confect a song that questions if the girls in his life love him and couch it in the club traditions of bounce music. That’s precisely what he did with “In My Feelings,” a cut off 2018’s “Scorpion,” making for a song that certainly lives up to its title. As he asks Kiki and KB if they still think of him fondly, the song cuts in samples from Magnolia Shorty and Lil Wayne, creating a propulsion that’ll have you throwing ass in the club while wondering if you should text your ex. — Horowitz

“Jumpman,” from Drake and Future’s joint record “What a Time to Be Alive,” is perhaps the rapper’s most blockbuster track. Over Metro Boomin’s trunk-rattling beat, Drake builds hype by repeating the song’s title endlessly while weaving between luxury rap trappings. The verses are brainless but dripping with style, as Future and Drizzy trade thoughts on codeine, chicken, and, of course, Michael Jordan. It also feels like one of the stickiest songs in Drake’s oeuvre, as it’s the perfect arena-shaking anthem for pro sports warmups forevermore. — Earl

Drake slows things way down with a laid-back, sinister flow over this “If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late” track. Filling in some of the pieces of his backstory through the lens of his friends and family in Toronto, the song hits a jarring beat switch midway through, where Drake works around repeating lines, “Runnin’ through the 6 with my woes / You know how that shit go,” and delivers some of the most razor-sharp moments of his career. It’s Drake’s best song about loving Toronto, which has plenty of competition. — Earl

Drake is unquestionably in the pocket on “Laugh Now Cry Later,” his 2020 collaboration with Lil Durk that served as a free-floating single in the lead-up to his sixth album “Certified Lover Boy.” On it, he glides across a molasses-paced beat accented by popping horns and pitpattering percussion, switching up his cadence while singing against the melody and boasting about his untouchable success. Amid it all, he manages to craft whipsmart rhymes that he delivers with ease, only to pause after each line to let them sink in: “Distance between us is not like a store, this isn’t a closeable gap,” he smirks, marveling at his lyrical acuity. — Horowitz

You can argue all day about which Drake album is his best, but “Look What You’ve Done” is, frankly, one of his best songs on what many consider his best album. There was something emotionally bare about Drake at the start of his career, when he conveyed a certain fearlessness to his vulnerability that sold the sentiment. “Look What You’ve Done” was one of those tunes, a mournful, pared-down production that expertly flips an obscure jam session from Playa’s Static Major and Smoke E. Digglera ripped off YouTube. But it’s how Drake approaches the instrumental that gives it a sense of gravitas, turning it into a ode to the people who lifted him up when he needed it most. After he recounts how his mother and uncle acted as his support system, he rides out the song with a very touching voicemail from his grandmother, who dotes on him in the only way that a grandmother could. — Horowitz

At the onset of his career, Drake was concerned with the darker side of nightlife, singing about a stripper who basks in the spotlight but is scared of ending up alone on “Houstatlantavegas.” He carried that sentiment over to “Marvin’s Room,” a track where he calls up the one that got away and expresses just how regretful he is in having let her go. As he downplays his intentions — “We threw a party, I was just calling ’cause they were just leavin’” — it becomes clear that his loneliness is consuming him, and he has nowhere else to turn. That sort of admission is a rarity in hip-hop, and why “Marvin’s Room” landed so heavily. — Horowitz

Drake may not have invented the term “YOLO” but he sure did introduce it to the mainstream, his throwaway acronym at the end of a chorus spawning a millennial creed. It’s not the only iconic line in “The Motto” — there are gems from Lil Wayne (who could forget “Almost drowned in the p—y so I swam to her butt”?). “The Motto” captured the peak of the Young Money era, and despite its mild cringe factor, it remains one of Drake’s most singalongable party anthems. — Shanfeld

Riding on a flashy, sped-up sample of Lauryn Hill’s “Ex-Factor,” “Nice For What” drops Drake in club banger mode, chatting up ladies and focused on having a good time. Shaking off his tough shell and gassing up the women in his life (“That’s a real one in your reflection / Without a follow, without a mention”), he turns to the dance floor, taking cues from New Orleans bounce with vocals from Big Freedia and the genre specialty of declaring dance moves. It’s a wonder that Drake can comfortably command “Gotta make that jump, jump / Bend it over, lift it up, bend it over, lift it up” and not lose his swagger. — Earl

There’s a tough exterior to Rick Ross’ “Aston Martin Music” featuring Drake and Chrisette Michele, a song predicated on luxury and flaunting wealth. That’s partly why Drake’s solo version of the song, “Paris Morton Music,” is so effective, in that it skirts the braggadocio (well, mostly) for the sake of double entendres and very clever turns of phrase. “I got that Courtney Love for you, that crazy shit / I don’t drink every bottle I own, I be aging shit,” he raps atop a rich, mellifluous beat care of J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League (question: why aren’t there more J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League beats these days?). Sure, “Aston Martin Music” is a classic in its own right, but Drake truly made it his own with his own version. — Horowitz

“Passionfruit” is, quite evidently, one of Drake’s prettiest songs. Its extended instrumental, built off tropical synths and a spoken-word sample, sounds like sipping a daiquiri while floating down a lazy river. It’s so blissfully dreamy that it doesn’t immediately scan as a breakup song: “Harder buildin’ trust from a distance,” Drake croons. “I think we should rule out commitment for now, ‘cause we’re fallin’ apart.” Don’t let the lyrics bum you out — this one’s all about the viiiibes. — Shanfeld

Yes, it’s technically a DJ Khaled song, but “Popstar” is a Drake showcase. Over crisp hi-hats and a synth loop, the rapper pokes fun at celebrity life: “Bitches callin’ my phone like I’m locked up, nonstop,” he states on the chorus. “From the plane to the fuckin’ helicopter, yeah.” It’s a tongue-in-cheek brag from one of the 2010s titans who helped turn hip-hop into the country’s most popular genre. As a bonus, the song’s music video builds out the world of “Popstar” as Justin Bieber lip-syncs every word to the tune while prancing around a mansion. — Shanfeld

The song that birthed one billion Instagram captions, “Started From the Bottom” is a victory lap from an artist whose most commercially successful work was still ahead of him. “Started from the bottom, now my whole team fuckin’ here!” Drake shouts from the mountaintop, looking down at the path he traveled to get ther. But underneath the boasting is a heartfelt declaration of loyalty and friendship. “No new n—s,” Drake sings before asking, “Fuck a fake friend, where your real friends at?” This is, after all, a song for the day ones. — Shanfeld

In another timeline, Drake and Rihanna would have made one of the most legendary collab albums. But instead, we’re left with a fistful of duets including “Take Care,” the title track off of his sophomore album. Built around a sample of Jamie xx’s remix of Gil Scott-Heron’s “I’ll Take Care of You,” “Take Care” moves at a hip-shaking pace powered by stabbing piano chords that kick up and drop out, to great effect, while Drake and Rihanna sing of leaving behind the toxicity of past relationships. They find each other in the process, but at what cost? — Horowitz

No list of Drizzy’s best music would be complete without a petty anthem, and there are few better than this “For All the Dogs Scary Hours Edition” track. Vinylz & FNZ build the lush beat around a yearning live cut of Major Harris’s “I Got Over Love,” a canvas for a tortured Drake to dump his emotions (“Bunch of feelings I just couldn’t shake / Disrespect that I just shouldn’t take.”) Unexpectedly, the song’s most engaging element is Drake endlessly repeating “Fuck my ex,” which most artists couldn’t drop 30 times in one song without smirking. But with Drake, it’s honest enough to seem real and not just the ramblings of a petulant manbaby. — Earl

One of Drake’s signature two-song mashups, this non-album track could stand as an excellent introduction to anyone not familiar with his lore. Starting with a hard-charging beat that inspired scores of his peers to take their turn on it via freestyles and remixes, Drake stays super-quotable on a spiritual sequel to “Started From the Bottom.” Interesting moments drop regularly, especially as the beat downshifts, allowing Drake to reflect on how his father’s absenteeism impacted him. This transitions the song into “The Catch Up,” which is built around a dreamy James Blake sample, and Drake’s lower-key rapping sounds so smooth, delivering industry truisms like “Bein’ humble don’t work as well as bein’ aware / Listen up, boy, you’re better off eavesdroppin.’” — Earl