Ouch.

In the response everybody knew was coming, Pusha T fired back at Drake’s “Duppy Freestyle”—itself a retort to Pusha’s barbs at Drake on T’s latest album, DAYTONA—with the kind of precision, venom and flat-out disrespect that has extinguished egos and blown rap braggadocio to bits.

On “The Story of Adidon,” Pusha T flips Jay-Z’s “The Story of O.J.” to make light of Drake’s relationship with his father, the health of his producer Noah “40” Shebib, and Cash Money payment practices. But the moment that’s gotten the most buzz is T’s implication that Drake has a kid he isn’t taking care of.

There’s been online speculation for months that Drizzy fathered a child with the Canadian porn star Sophie Brussaux, and with “The Story of Adidon” Pusha T pours gas on the fire.

The track premiered Tuesday afternoon on Hot 97, complete with artwork from a 2006 David Leyes photoshoot that features a grinning Drake in blackface and wearing a cartoon Jim Crow shirt. “Please stop referring to this picture as ‘artwork,’” Pusha T tweeted. “I’m not an internet baby, I don’t edit images… this is a real picture… these are his truths, see for yourself.” Debating in the comments section on Pusha’s IG, Leyes said the pics were Drake’s idea and he scoffed when it was suggested that he should have denied having done the shoot.

“Hell no!!! For sure I took it!!! I’m proud to be part of a strong statement by a black man about the fucked up culture he is living in.” (Instagram has since removed the post of Drake in blackface.)

Since the early 2010’s of “Exodus 23:1” and “Tuscan Leather,” Drake and Pusha’s war of words hasn’t ever cooled—it just lies dormant for a while before things resume their standard volatility. There is no love lost. But this time…the viciousness.

The audacity? No…the insolence. The carnage.

On “The Story of Adidon,” Pusha mocks Drake’s dad Dennis Graham (“You mention wedding ring like it’s a bad thing / Your father walked away at five, helluva dad thing…”) and his longtime collaborator 40 Shebib’s MS (“Still giving you classics, that’s the only thing that dates me / OVO 40 hunched over like he 80 / tickticktick / how much time he got? That man is sick-sick-sick…”).

In addition to the shocking blackface imagery, it’s the finger-wagging at Drake’s supposed paternity and abandonment of a son Adonis in Canada—with some regrettably predictable slut-shaming of Brussaux, who allegedly told TMZ last year that she had texts from Drake asking her to get an abortion—that ramped up the reactions and gave this whole thing renewed teeth.

“A baby’s involved, it’s deeper than rap / We talkin’ character, let me keep with the facts / You are hiding a child, let that boy come home / Deadbeat muthafucka playin’ border patrol.”

Such ugliness. Tsk-tsk.

This feud has been going on for years, and in the past week has only gotten more intense. It’s even led to Kim Kardashian feuding with a charity organization named after her husband Kanye’s late mother.

There’s no point in comparing the contemporary social media-adjacent rap beef to our favorite feuds of yesteryear. This most recent bout has played out over a few days. Most of our classic beef tracks had a lot of staying power because they were being recorded with the idea that they had to; these still had to be strong enough songs to make you want to buy an album or B-side. But a “freestyle” released to the web is a more pointed attack nowadays, and it doesn’t require months of prep or purchase. The essence of two emcees dissing on record can’t ever compare to the spontaneity of face-to-face battling, but one has to admit this is a bit closer to that kind of unpredictable energy—even if you don’t always get a “No Vaseline”-level classic out of the deal. At the very least, it’s an appealing middle ground if you like to hear rappers spar—or just enjoy a good roast.

That’s not to say there can be no comparison between eras whatsoever. For a while now I’ve been thinking about how Drake’s career parallels LL Cool J’s. There’s something about making love songs, charting big with those songs and sustaining a position as one of the most famous rappers in the world that makes you a prime target for attacks on your credibility.

In the late 1980s, LL Cool J became the corny rapper to hate as hip-hop’s voice got angrier and he got more preoccupied with sub-New Edition bubblegum balladry and Brenda’s big ole butt. He had just enough clout to be worth a verbal jab or two (nobody was going to gain any respect from dissing Kid ‘n Play, no matter how many cartoons they would star in), and he found himself with a rogue’s gallery of haters that included MC Shan, Kool Moe Dee and Ice-T. LL roared back at his enemies (except Shan) successfully via tracks like “Jack the Ripper” and “To Da Break of Dawn.” That uneasy balancing act between pop accessibility and battle rapper would be a constant for LL, and it’s become similar terrain for Drake. His chart successes have come alongside a cadre of antagonists—from Pusha T (the dope rap king questioning his realness a la Ice-T) to Common (the elder trying to put him in his place a la Moe Dee)—and he has a litany of diss tracks in his catalog that prove he takes his credibility seriously… or at least he wants everyone to think he does.

But it is getting rough out here. Drake’s paternity situation may seem off-limits to some and you can’t really argue for the moral rectitude of this kind of thing. The problematic pettiness of it all is either going to turn you off or draw you in, and we’d like for these guys to not completely retreat to 8th grade-ism when it comes time to spar, but the meanness is what makes you watch. We’ve come to baby mamas and blackface in just a few days—so now it’s just a matter of who blinks first. Because there are no more gloves and Pusha T is pulling no punches. He landed one hard right today. And it stings. Man…

That’s gonna leave a mark.