Future and Metro Boomin's We Still Don't Trust You Features A$AP Rocky, The Weeknd, and New Jabs At Drake

Prince Williams

Just when we all thought Future and Metro Boomin had played their ace, revealed their jokers, and dropped their Draw 4, they've gone and tossed a major Wild Card, one that doubles down on their early 2024 reign, somehow manages to bolster their already-cemented legends—and yes, extends and complicates the Drake vs the Universe beef even more.

We should have seen this coming when Metro revealed this second album’s title, We Still Don’t Trust You. Originally when he and Future first announced their plan to drop two projects just weeks apart, fans assumed they would be serving up a redux of one of Future’s biggest career flexes—that moment in winter 2017 when he dropped a self-titled album, boasting some of his biggest rap hits to date, and then seven days later dropped HNDRXX, another, arguably better (not arguable, to be honest—it's factually better) full-length album that fully indulged in his R&B skillset.

But, in a post-“Like That” world, the second album title made that concept seem like less of a lock. That Still seemed a little too aggressive for an R&B album, and Metro captioning his title-announcement post “job’s not finished” suggested he and Future were more interested in spinning the block on Drake again. The joke, naturally, is on us, for not assuming that if any duo would be capable of pulling off both, it’s these two. Still is indeed the spiritual sequel to HNDRXX fans (read: I) have been pleading for since ‘17, and it reminds us that subliminals still hit when they’re crooned.

But these two know what they started, and they know there’s bloodlust in the air—so in yet another swerve, Future and Metro's R&B album includes a surprise package of six new rap songs, on which even more direct shots are fired.

Before we get to that though, it must be said: much like HNDRXX stood taller than FUTURE, when the dust settles, We Still Don’t might—might—clear its admittedly very excellent rap predecessor. Boyz II Men interpolations, Ginuwine flips, a Brownstone sample, like a half dozen Weeknd features with his voice in full angelic ethereal mode—Future’s vocal performance and Metro’s production have somehow shifted into an even higher gear. From subverting expectations with a frisky little Miami Vice-type groove to start, the project just sounds great top to bottom with nary a skip. If you're keeping score, that makes essentially 35 heaters, give or take, that this dynamic duo has given us in the past three weeks alone, not counting the new album's bonus rap songs. It's still early in the year, but it’s going to be a tall order for any mainstream rap projects in the pipeline to outdo these two.

Drake's diss song reply to Kendrick, Future, Metro Boomin, Rick Ross, Weeknd and more a new chapter in rap geopolitics.

Now, to the drama. The lion’s share of the rap community is more focused on Drake and Kendrick, but if even half of the narratives swirling around Future and Drake are true, then there’s real disdain here. So, something as innocuous as say, We Still Don’t Trust You track five, “This Sunday,” interpolating Drake’s classic Views album cut “Feel No Ways” comes off here as calculated and petty, especially considering it has led the masses to realize that “Sunday” existed first—Drake was actually the one doing the interpolating, which is why his 2016 track lowkey always had a Future credit. Is this Future just liberating a long-sought-after loosie, much like the first album’s “Ice Attack,” or this one's “Red Leather,” which we'll get to in a minute? Or is he also sneakily reminding everyone that while Drake’s given him a lot of hits, their influence on each other has always gone both ways?

If you want more direct darts, look no further than the aforementioned guest appearances from The Weeknd. When Abel made a cameo on We Don’t Trust You, some fans joked that even his tangential involvement was an implicit co-sign of the album’s subliminal mission statement to line Drake up. But on “All to Myself,” a Still Don’t Trust You standout, he makes the subtext plain, singing “They could never diss my brothers, baby/When they got leaks in they operation/I thank God that I never signed my life away/And we never do the big talk/They shooters makin TikToks/Got us laughin in the Lambo.” The nuances of Abel and Drake’s complicated relationship are beyond the scope of this article, but the short version is that there have been frienemy, hot-and-cold vibes between them since the Weeknd declined to sign to Drake’s OVO label, even after Drake’s 2011 Take Care album broke him on a mainstream level. Since then, there have been video cameos, concert guest appearances, shoutouts on wax, and links in Vegas—but dig deep enough, and you'll find frostier comments and subliminal jabs to match. And as for shooters making Tiktoks, there is one such highly touted member in Drake’s crew who just made a decidedly non-threatening social media post not too long ago.

For the most part, though, We Still Don’t Trust You finds Future in his HNDRXX bag, crooning about love (or lack thereof) and other drugs. There’s little room for dissing. Which is why it sure as hell seems like Volume 2’s rap songs were a late addition that he and Metro attached to continue stoking the fire their first album started. There are a few telltale signs: first, the Charlamagne clip that kicks off the rap-pack section of the album—where he says the Big 3 should really be a Fantastic 4 that includes Future, who he argues is number one—is extremely recent, like, days ago. And track six, “Show of Hands,” boasts a surprise feature from none other than A$AP Rocky, who gleefully kicks his verse off by chiding Metro and Pluto for not including him “on the first one.” Which sure as hell reads like he would’ve dropped everything to be a part of the “Fuck Drake” movement the first go-round if they’d tipped him off.

Rocky, much like Kendrick, was embraced by an already-ascendant Drake in the early days of his career. Who can forget the frat rap posse cut “Fuckin Problems,” on which all three rappers trade jiggy bars over a co-produced Drake beat? And Drake won’t let us forget that he tapped both of them as openers on his Club Paradise tour around the same time. They haven’t collaborated on wax much since, but have indicated closeness through shoutouts and the occasional public appearance. Drake even once gifted Rocky a chain bearing the visage of the late great A$AP Yams.

That all changed when Rocky got together with Rihanna, whose on-and-off history with Drake spans something like 2009 to 2016. When Rocky confirmed the relationship, and its seriousness, to this magazine back in 2021, it didn’t take long for the internet to flood the zone with memes about Drake—who himself once joked about his ideal picture-perfect life including “a family with Rihanna”— being heartbroken. But Drake seemed unbothered—until his last album, where he made a show of declaring a little too strongly how much the Rocky/Rihanna union didn't bother him.

Conspiracy theorists can make a case for 2021’s “Fucking Fans” being all about the dissolution of his relationship with Rih, but there’s no room for debate on the For All the Dogs album cut “Fear of Heights,” where he goes out of his way to tell us he’s referencing Rihanna, before insisting that he’s “had way badder” women and sneering that “that man” is “stuck with you, he can’t leave.” There are other little allusions to both Rocky and Rihanna across Dogs' track list. On that album’s deluxe opener “Red Button,” a big One Size Fits All subliminal about taking it there with his opps if they dare him to, he raps “Word to M-Dolla, she the only one could maybe save it/Should've hit you first, but, sis, you know about the shit I've taken,” referencing Rihanna’s best friend Melissa Forde by her nickname. And on his most recent tour, Drake made a show of playing his Rihanna collab “Work,” just so he could announce that he won’t perform it anymore.

After only two days, Cole is walking back his “7 Minute Drill” diss track after using his Dreamville Fest performance to apologize to Kendrick and declare that he's done with this beef.

So whereas Kendrick, Future and the other artists seemingly turning up on Drake may seem a little random, Rocky joining the fray should be the least surprising. His verse is hardly as thunderous as Kendrick’s, but he’s basically gesturing to Drake’s metaphorical red button and volunteering to press it himself, especially with lines like “Niggas in they feelings over women, what, you hurt or somethin?/I smash before you birthed, son, Flacko hit it first, son.” That last line is likely alluding to relations Rocky may have had with Sophie, the woman with whom Drake shares a child. (Whereas Kendrick attacked Drake's skill and bonafides, Rocky seems to be going full “Super Ugly” with it.) This is about as specific as Rocky gets—“Your last shit came and went” is pretty boilerplate, as disses go—but given that he ends the track saying “Fuck keepin' this shit hip-hop/I wanna see a fuck nigga bleed out,” he sounds like he’s less interested in lyrical sparring.

Despite that kiss-off line, there could be more in the chamber from Rocky as well; he told GQ in late 2022 that he and Metro had been spending so much time together in the studio that his next album should “just be called Flacko Boomin.” Metro, it would seem, is the conductor marshaling most of these Drake attacks, essentially assembling a who’s-who crew to pop shit over his baleful and routinely excellent beats like the rap game Sinister Six.

One person we can mark safe from all of this is J. Cole, who just days after his 48-hour about-face apology to Kendrick, turns up here, making a refreshingly new bemusing decision. Cole appears on the Volume 1 closer “Red Leather” with a verse that instantly ranks high in the competitive pantheon of Great J. Cole Guest Verses. Although some sites are eagerly reaching to paint certain bars as Cole's commentary on his own Kendrick apology, this verse was seemingly recorded well before any of this popped off. But given everything that's transpired since, the decision on his part to clear the verse—i.e., to let it appear on the sequel to the album dissing his one friend which inspired him to half-heartedly diss his other friend, only to draw the rap community’s ire by promptly bowing out of the competition—makes absolutely no sense. It sounds great, though!

Now more than ever, all eyes are on the sky, waiting for the Owl Signal to hit and signal a long-awaited Drake response record. Reports imply it’s imminent. But years from now, when the dust settles and this geopolitical skirmish fades from top of mind, what we’ll be left with is just two really great albums that stand all on their own.

Originally Appeared on GQ