Drake ― SMALL TOWN FAME Lyrics

“SMALL TOWN FAME” is a new track from Drake’s surprise album “$ome $exy $ongs 4 U” ($$$4U), which was released today, February 14, 2025.

The song showcases Drake’s versatility as an artist, blending elements of rap and melodic vocals. In this track, Drake reflects on his journey from his roots to global stardom, exploring themes of nostalgia, success, and the complexities of fame.

The lyrics likely touch on Drake’s experiences growing up in Toronto and his rise to international recognition, contrasting his current lifestyle with his humble beginnings. This release continues Drake’s tradition of dropping unexpected music and pushing the boundaries of his artistry.

SMALL TOWN FAME Drake Lyrics

Yeah
Leavin’ out the club with no hoes, it’s a dub
You somewhere on house arrest pretending you in love
Exfoliate that nigga that you with, he a scrub
Like I wanna know what’s up
What happened to us?
Your new nigga pretend to be the man, he a stud, like
Patek I had you in was hittin’ like a floodlight
We was really locked in, we got it out the mud like
All I got is memories of thinkin’ what it was like
Now you tryna style in my face, pop it in my face
Put it on the ‘Gram, you supposed to be my ace
I’m hating hard, I’m hating way too hard
I’m hating hard, I’m hating way too hard
I’m hating hard, you played the part
You wasn’t who you are right now
I’m hating hard, I’m hating way too—

Yeah, PH, PH, PH, PH, PH, PH

Yeah, PARTY on a paper chase
Poppin’ out in Saginaw, poppin’ out in Salt Lake
Poppin’ out in Arizona
Bitch, I feel like Tate McRae
Vanilla ice and white hoes, straight cake, uh
Niggas like to talk, man, stack somethin’
Puttin’ Charli up her nose, ex on her tongue
She been geekin’ hard, she done had a BRAT Summer
PARTY pull up on the scene, black Hummer
You boys pull up to the six, we get the tax runnin’
Ayy, talkin’ on her, oh, tryna prove somethin’
Nigga back somethin’, pack somethin’, do somethin’
Ayy, I don’t give a fuck, I’m a fallout boy when they call our gang
Lost a lot of brothers to this dog-ass game
What am I supposed to do with all that pain?
Sleepless nights, drown out days
Thinkin’ about how wrong I played
Even lost my bitch to the small town fame
Ayy, ayy, I’ma mess right now

You know what, man, we’re all in this
Now, whether we’re all in this together
Or you’re all in it for yourself
The fact of the matter is that we’re in it