“That boy got a head on his shoulders / I’ll knock it off” From: “Lights Off” Album: They Block Is Hot A great thing about teenage Wayne verses were how defiant they were, and how hungry he consistently sounded.
Wayne’s ability to call back to hip-hop legends is highly appreciated here, as well as his use of the word “exfoliated,” for those of us passionate about our skincare routines. At the opening of Wayne’s Carter series, where he began to grow out of his youthful trappings and demanded to be taken seriously as an MC.
“The heart of New Orleans / Thumping and beating / Living and breathing / Stealing and feeding / Peeling and leaving / Killing and grieving” From: Best Rapper Alive” Album: They Carter II If there was a turning point in Wayne’s rhyme structure, and the way he attacked beats, it began on Carter II, and with this song.
“Pockets getting' too fat / No Weight Watchers, no lip / Money talks, bullshit walks / On a motherfucking tightrope” From: “Rich As F×ck” Album: I Am Not A Human Being II Wayne, it seems, has never run out of ways to discuss the joy he finds in accumulating money.
“I'm just feeling Weezy / Hop in my shit and say goodbye / Cause the ceilings leaving” From: “They Still Like Me” Album: Dedication 2 Mixtape Wayne, who thrived while simultaneously in the thick of the first three releases in his Carter album series, was almost an entirely different rapper.
“Benjamin Franklin on Ex how that cash roll / That's right, the mills do like damp clothes” From: “Maybach Music II” Album: Deeper Than Rap The great Benjamin Franklin makes another appearance, as well as yet another unique play on language and sound.
Not only a play on Wayne and Baby’s geographic location and a not to migration tactics, but also a reminder of happier times. On an album that pretty much served as a vehicle to capitalize off of Wayne’s hot streak, he still didn’t take any plays off.
“Forewarning / Young Money’s armed / And we can shoot it out / I got the money drawn / Yeah, take that to the bank wit' ya / I rock my hat to the side like I paint pictures / Smoke weed, talk shit like Lane Kyffin / Whole country in recession, but Wayne different” From: “Banned From TV” Album: No Ceilings Despite the dated USC-era Lane Kyffin reference, Wayne’s onslaught on this classic Swizz Beatz-produced Noriega beat is one for the ages.
“Just bought a new charm / Fuck the watch, I buy a new arm, you lukewarm” From: “No Problems” Album: Coloring Book A vintage Wayne guest verse coming last year, he anchored this song and stole the show.
A guest offering on Orange’s stunning album produced one of Wayne’s most vulnerable and honest verses of all time. Hard to pick a single line from this song, which is one of Wayne’s most iconic and memorable from his brilliant run.
At this point, it isn’t clear if the “Uproar Challenge” is an organic display for Wayne’s triumphant return or a Machiavellian ploy to ensure the Carter V rapper has a hit on his hands. Weezy was stuck in label purgatory for years and deserves a popular song that isn’t on the Suicide Squad soundtrack.
In 2008, following an almost unbelievable run of brilliant weirdness on mixtapes and internet leaks, Lil Wayne released They Carter III, his sixth proper solo album and also the one that really began pushing studio rap albums away from where they were at the time (aiming at stadium-seating bigness) and toward where we find the best versions of them today (more granular, more honky, more idiosyncratic). Many people wrote many nice things about They Carter III.
Pitchfork, for example, described it as “the epic culmination of a lifetime of eccentricities.” Rolling Stone said it was proof that Wayne, At that moment, was the best rapper alive.” (His mid-to-late-2000s stretch was the first thing I thought about Sunday night when he popped up on the BET Awards as, essentially, an afterthought.) There were, to be sure, some people who did not like it, as there always are, but mostly They Carter III was very positively received, which is good to see now, given the way it’s grown into a role of obvious importance.
Carter,” the sixth song on the album, Wayne works as a doctor in the emergency unit of a hospital. He visits three separate patients over the course of a day, and each one has a different list of ailments that he must tend to.
But let me also say this: In the song, Wayne is presented as some sort of super doctor; he refers to himself in the third person, he says things like “Dr. In fact, it’s quite the opposite: Lil Wayne, it turns out, makes for a horrible doctor.
First, as the nurse reads off the patient’s issues to Wayne (in front of the patient, mind you), he audibly sighs and groans in frustration, which, if it’s not a breach of some doctor code, is at the very least wildly offensive. Imagine you’re at a hospital lying in a bed and a nurse is like, “This patient has throat cancer,” and you’re there, your whole world wrecked from the news, and the doctor is like, “Ugh, another one.
After that initial exchange, Wayne plans to get started, but before he does, he addresses the fact that he showed up to work late. His excuse: “It takes time to be this great, UHF, so just wait.” SO JUST WAIT, haha haha.
When Wayne does finally begin doctoring, he opts to start by berating the patient even more (“Your style is a disgrace / Your rhymes are fifth place”; “Where is your originality? And, literally as Wayne is in the middle of talking about how superb he is, the patient dies.
Wayne responds by telling the patient that “respect is in the heart / so that’s where I'm going to start,” and that’s a good plan, but then Wayne tells him, “A lot of heart patients don’t make it.” This is from an article about a medical study done on heart surgery among the elderly, the most at-risk-for-death-during-heart-surgery population of people, that ran in Then York Times just a few months after They Carter III came out : “Ninety percent survived their surgery to leave the hospital.
The rate of such survival improved sharply as the study went on, from 85 percent in the early years to 98 percent by its end.” Those numbers seem like something that a doctor who works on hearts (which, among other things, is what Wayne is in “Dr. After that, Wayne tells the patient that people had a hard time reading his writing on prescriptions, so he just stopped writing them (this feels like the wrong way to handle that particular problem) and then he force-feeds him some Vicodin (“Here, take these Vicodin / Now like it and love it”), and then guess what: 13 seconds later the patient is dead.
“God dun nit, I’ve lost another one,” Wayne says with the same level of contrition as someone who’s accidentally knocked over a bottle of water. The nurse tells him, “This one looks much better than the others,” and the undertone is clear: Please don’t fuck this up and let this one die, too.
It’s like a urologist meaning to say, “Please lower your pants, so I can see your penis,” but actually saying, “Aye, whip that dick out, bro.” Wayne then smacks the guy in the face (this does not seem like something they teach you in medical school, though I will admit that I barely made it out of regular college, so I could be wrong).
The guy’s eyes open, and Wayne looks at him and says, “Welcome back, hip-hop / I saved your life,” which all of a sudden is a very funny line when you look at his doctor history.