Step one: acquire this sweatshirt.
Step two: remove Drake
Step three: discard Drake
Step four: wash the sweatshirt, because it's probably got all that sad Drakeness on it. Get that on your skin and it won't come off for months. You'll mope around in strip clubs, suspicious of every girl there because a.) you're suddenly incapable of finding real love, and b.) you forget you're in a strip club, fall in love with a stripper, and thus continue the cycle of distrust, heartbreak, and peak Drakeness.
Step five: well, just don't discard Drake. Find a good home for him, like as a judge on a reality show where he can purse his lips, put his chin in his hand, and go "yeah, Clementigo, that was real. REAL. Just, yeah. Real." The Voice seems to take anyone. Put him there.
Step six: wear sweatshirt, gain superpower of being shockingly elusive in the state of Alabama.