Q: “Have we covered triple digits’ worth of Drake singles by this point?”

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Micha Cavaseno: Lil Baby is to Young Thug what Uncle Murda was to Jadakiss — a reminder that Atlanta of 2018, much like NYC of 2006, is bankrupt, dull, creatively destitute, and too overly dominating. Lil Baby might as well be Gunna, Sahbabii, or the many other pretenders of the last few years with nothing to say and no ways to make it appear otherwise. That Drakk is here beside him, unable (or perhaps unwilling) to bolster the song into more than a monotonous thud, is also telling that he, too, has become too stale an institution.
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Nortey Dowuona: Drake dully mumbles, and Lil Baby tiptoes around the synths and the lumbering drums that might trip him up.
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Katherine St Asaph: Remarkably puny strings, like someone tentatively pressing keys two rooms away; a beat haphazardly attached at three times the volume; under two minutes and a half even with Fucking Drake: the most nothing-sounding beat I’ve heard in a while including on SoundCloud. Neither rapper fills the void, and one of them says “wah wah wah, I’m a baby.”
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Alfred Soto: Wah wah wah, bitch, you’re a baby. 
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Will Adams: In their defense, it’d be hard for anyone to sound like they give a shit with a beat this lifeless.
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Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Well, they can’t all be “Look Alive.”
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