Everyone Drake Dissed on Iceman – Maybe it was 20 vs. 1

A$AP Rocky

This is where Iceman gets nasty. Not clever-nasty. Not strategic-nasty. Just nasty. Drake and Rocky’s tension has always lived at the intersection of professional rivalry and the fact that they both dated Rihanna — which, in the world of celebrity ego, is the kind of overlap that creates permanent scar tissue.

On “Burning Bridges,” Drake observes that Rihanna didn’t promote Rocky’s album Don’t Be Dumb: “Your baby momma ain’t even post a single, damn, where she at?” That line is genuinely funny and genuinely mean — the kind of specific, verifiable observation that makes a great diss because the target can’t respond without making it worse. He also raps about “sharing women” on “Ran to Atlanta,” a barely veiled reference to their shared romantic history. 

But then on “Firm Friends,” Drake crosses into different territory entirely: “K-Y-S A-S-A-P, that’s some shit that you could do for me.” Using the “KYS” acronym is the most aggressive moment on the album, and it generated a hell of a meme. The Rocky section reveals Drake at his pettiest and, honestly, his most entertaining. Not even strategic bars — just clowning your opponent.  Whether that’s compelling art or just a rich man’s grudge journal is a matter of taste. For what it’s worth, it’s probably a little of both.

Pharrell Williams

Pharrell gets caught in the same Virginia crossfire as Pusha, but his section carries its own specific sting. On “Make Them Pay” and “Firm Friends,” Drake twists the knife of ownership: “Dog, I was wearing your prized possessions.”

There’s something undeniably cold about wearing another man’s legacy jewelry and then rapping about it. The image does all the work — no lyrical gymnastics required. Drake walking around in Pharrell’s iconic chains is a visual diss that operates 24/7, long after the song ends. Pharrell’s closeness with Pusha T (both from Virginia, both tied to the N.E.R.D./Star Trak universe) has always made him collateral damage in Drake’s feuds, and the auction elevated him to a direct target.  That said, Pharrell is a generational producer who scored some of the decade’s biggest pop songs and runs Louis Vuitton menswear. The man is doing fine. 

Rick Ross

A collaboration that aged like milk. Drake and Ross were frequent partners on tracks like “Aston Martin Music” and “Lord Knows” — real golden-era stuff. Then the Kendrick beef happened, and Ross released “Champagne Moments”, his own diss track, while publicly mocking Drake. The betrayal stung because it came from someone Drake had genuinely elevated.

On “Make Them Pay,” Drake fires back with a bar that’s as much wordplay as argument: “Dog, I was aiding Ross with streams before Adin Ross had ever streamed.” The Rick Ross/Adin Ross name-pun is clever, and the underlying claim — I made your streaming numbers before streaming culture even existed — has teeth. There’s a kernel of truth there: Drake genuinely did boost Ross’s commercial profile during their collaborative peak. Ross, predictably, responded by calling Iceman “horrendous” and “trash”.

DJ Khaled

The Khaled diss might be the most complicated moment on the entire album. On “Make Them Pay,” Drake drops the most lyrically dense attack on Iceman: “And, Khaled, you know what I mean / The beef was fully live, you went halal and got on your deen / And your people are still waitin’ for a free Palestine / But apparently everything isn’t black and white and red and green.”

A lot happening in four bars. Drake and Khaled are multi-hit collaborators — “I’m On One,” “Popstar,” “For Free” — and Drake expected loyalty during the Kendrick war. He got silence. So he accuses Khaled, who is of Palestinian descent, of using his faith (“deen”) as a convenient excuse to stay neutral in the rap beef while simultaneously not speaking up loudly enough for his own people. 

Playboi Carti

Drake isn’t just going after legacy acts on Iceman — he’s checking the younger generation too. On “Whisper My Name,” he uses Carti’s alias to confront him directly: “Baby boy please, I heard what you said to lil bro about me / Yeah, and when you run into the ICEMAN, what you gon’ do except freeze? / You not bout to squeeze / You not in the streets.”

The tension reportedly stems from Carti siding with Kendrick and refusing to clear a feature on a previous Drake track, “No Face.” In Drake’s loyalty-obsessed worldview, that’s a declaration of war. The “freeze” wordplay ties neatly into the album’s ice motif, and there’s an almost parental condescension in the “baby boy” framing that’s designed to get under Carti’s skin. Drake challenges his street credibility — a standard rap move — but the execution is solid enough. The problem? Carti’s fanbase operates in a completely different musical universe. They don’t care about traditional rap beef dynamics; they’re vibing to leaked tracks and abstract SoundCloud aesthetics. The diss lands in hip-hop terms but might not even register in the dimension Carti actually inhabits.

Mustard

If you produced the beat to the biggest diss track of 2024, you’re going to end up on the wrong side of the response album. Mustard made the instrumental for “Not Like Us” — literally the sonic backdrop of Drake’s most humiliating public moment.

On “2 Hard 4 The Radio,” a track paying homage to Bay Area legend Mac Dre, Drake takes aim at Mustard’s production résumé, essentially arguing that Mustard hasn’t had a significant hit since their 2014 collaboration on YG’s “Who Do You Love.” The argument is factually shaky — Mustard literally won a Grammy for “Not Like Us” and has consistent production credits across the industry. But Drake isn’t really making an empirical case; he’s trying to minimize the man who scored the soundtrack to his worst moment.

Dr. Dre

This is the most dangerous diss on Iceman — not because of its technical brilliance, but because of who it’s aimed at and what it implies. On “Make Them Remember,” Drake raps: “I heard they got special places in hell / For n—as jokin’ about evil when they did it themselves, damn.”

He doesn’t say Dre’s name. He doesn’t have to. The bar alludes to Dr. Dre’s well-documented history of domestic violence allegations — a subject that hip-hop has largely chosen not to revisit for decades. Drake’s point is clear: Your camp came after my morality, but your own mentor has a deeply problematic past. It’s the hypocrisy play, and it’s a legitimate rhetorical move. But notice the subliminal delivery. Drake will name-drop LeBron, spell out “KYS” for Rocky, and address Khaled by name — but Andre Young, like Jay-Z still gets the coded treatment. The plausible deniability is the strategy: plant the seed, let the internet do the rest, and never have to answer for it directly. Smart. Calculated. And the calculation is precisely what dulls the edge.

Travis Scott

Drake and Travis Scott made “Sicko Mode” together — a global smash, one of the defining songs of its era. Travis reportedly aligned with Kendrick, Future, and Metro Boomin during the 2024 beef buildup, encouraging the performance of “Like That” at a festival. Drake later mimed shooting at an inflatable effigy of Travis’s head during a concert, because when you’ve decided subtlety is for people who aren’t selling out arenas, that’s apparently the move.

On “Make Them Pay,” the actual lyric is almost understated by comparison — Drake raps about trying to “catch one of you boys ‘Stargazin'” in the field, a direct nod to Travis’s hit single. It’s almost too subtle. If you’re not tracking every Drake feud in real-time, you’d miss it entirely. That’s either masterful restraint or a signal that Drake doesn’t view Travis as a primary threat — more of a supporting character in someone else’s betrayal arc. The concert effigy stunt honestly did more damage than any lyric could. Sometimes the off-record action speaks louder than anything on wax.