A running theme in Drake songs is that friendly faces aren’t always real friends. At first, it was just a side effect of his visibility, people trying to hop into the orbit of his influence. In the opening line of Take Care closer “The Ride,” he scoffed, “You won’t feel me ’til everybody say they love you but it’s not love.” By If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late, though, he had an even more cynical worldview, chastising female guests about using his Wi-Fi to diss their girlfriends on “Energy.” The idea that those hovering closest to you might actually be insincere is a common Drake trope. And for someone as petty as Drake can be, it’s an effective tactic used to position himself as the “realest” and most blameless person in the room. Being the target of pretenders is the central conceit of “Fake Love,” which finds Drake calling out the many frauds among him (“whole time they wanna take my place,” he repeats), pinpointing the artificial.

“Fake Love” is infectious and vaguely familiar, with top notes of several songs in the Drake canon. It’s no surprise that this is the most comfortable he’s sounded in some time. After more than a year on the offensive, Drake is back in the role that best suits him: playing the victim. Over faux steel drum bongs, bass thuds, and splotchy percussion that moves at a half-strut, similar to “Hotline Bling,” he makes full use of his tone. It’s so distinctly pleasant for a song about a discourtesy so nasty. Produced by Vinylz and Frank Dukes, two major contributors to IYRTITL, “Fake Love” is a parade of crooned accusations: “How you wanna clique up after your mistakes?” he asks. But when friends become enemies it can send you spiraling, doubting everyone. So Drake yearns to make the distinction clear. Who among us can’t identify?