A lengthy defense of Lil Wayne.

Now, you may have seen that stories floating around about how the smartest kids listen to beethoven and the dumbest listen to Lil Wayne. Well, what the stories don’t take into consideration is that the standard for a kid being “intelligent” was based on high school grades. And in my experience, that only barely correlates with grades. Secondly, kids who aim to appear smart will probably be more inclined to both listen to Beethoven and report it for the social rep. Basically, I’m saying that the study is more or less bullshit. That being said, Lil Wayne does have tons of stupid ass fans. But maybe that just means he’s clever enough to ensnare them all. And before you respond with something not-so-clever about how shitty he is, here’s WHY you should just swallow your words and concede the point.

First, you need to be open-minded when Wayne says he’s a “martian”, “misunderstood”, and tries to distance himself from the rest of mainstream hip hop. It is always valuable to give someone/thing the benefit of the doubt, the chance to argue their case, etc, before you pass judgement.

Second, you need to approach lyrics as you would poetry, literature, or anything else of the sort; with a critical eye, aware of potential, underlying meanings and subtle connections that may not be immediately or readily apparent. Think of songs and albums as chapters and volumes. Lil Wayne loves sound. He loves nonsense wordplay and non sequiter metaphors, religious references, ambiguous allusions, and streams of consciousness; surreal, non-linear, but with a method to the madness. But most of all, he loves combining all of the above and playing tricks on the pseudo-intelligent, disguising brilliance in plain sight underneath a veil of self-promotion and what those rapper folk like to call “swagger”. And all the while, he matches the beat like they’re soulmates. Or not, if that’s what he wants.

Third, keep this quote in mind: “Half of what I say is meaningless, but I say it so that the other half may reach you.”

Fourth, it helps if you smoke weed because you can better relate to the state of mind needed to appreciate this

Now I’m going to basically (over) analyze one of Wayne’s songs. However, I won’t even touch on things like flow, sound, or anything stylistic like that. Merely the lyrical content. And that’s where most of the criticism leveled at him aims at.

“Don’t Get It (Misunderstood)”

[Nina Simone]

Baby, you understand me now

If sometimes you see that I’m mad

Don’t you know no one alive can always be an angel

When everything goes wrong, you see some bad

[Chorus- Nina Simone]

But I’m just a soul whose intentions are good

Oh lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood

All right, so there’s the thesis; I’m just trying to do right, so “please don’t let me be misunderstood”.

[Verse 1- Lil' Wayne]

Uh, misunderstood ain’t gotta be explained

But you don’t understand me so let me explain (heh heh)

This opening is, obviously, a play on the idea of understanding. Everyone knows what that means, but since the listener doesn’t understand Wayne, he’s going to explain.

Stood in the heat, the flames, the snow

Please slow down hurricane

The wind blow, my dreads swing

He had hair like wool, like Wayne (huh)

“Stood in the heat, the flames, the snow” refers to all the shit he gets, ie being flamed, but also notes with “the snow” that being misunderstood and with such hostility is cold, which has connotations of being alone, alienation, etc.

“Please slow down hurricane” refers most obviously to Katrina and New Orleans, but also the storm of hositility, etc. The next two lines paint a picture of someone standing before the storm, hair in the wind. I say someone because first he says “my” and then changes the perspective to “he” and lastly, with “like Wayne”. We’ll solve this mystery soon, never fear.

Dropping ashes in the bible

I shake em out and they fall on the rifle

Here, he’s smoking weed, dropping ashes on the Bible, reflecting on the connection between violence and religion, or at least Christianity. So this line touches on hypocrisy, weed being enlightening, his religious conflict, and another dualistic image (the first being flame and snow). As a sidenote, he often relates things in dualities, very yin-yang kind of thing. But he also connects them, in a sense removing the space between them, which to mean, seems Taoist.

Scary, hail Mary no tale fairy

All real very, extraordinary

Perry Mason facing, the barrel if he tattle

My god is my judge, no gown no gavel

The things I just went over are scary. Hail Mary, except this is no fairytale. Here he’s plays on prayer, but that this situation is no joke, no tale, fairy (referring Mary as a fairy?), but is “all real, very extraordinary”

Now, Perry Mason is a reference to a character: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Perry_Mason

I haven’t read or seen anything relating to the character, so I can’t really vouch for this, but the character is a lawyer, so if you don’t want to check the wiki, I guess that’s good. Anyways, it seems he’s comparing himself to Perry Mason facing doom if he caves. But like I said, without knowing the background, I’m just staying outta this line.

The last line here is great. Notice he says MY god as opposed to just God. This illuminates an aspect of his spirituality that he also alludes to in numerous other songs. Basically, his idea of God is different from most people’s. And just as importantly, his judge, his god, isn’t the court system. So in addition to his spirituality, he’s conveying a dislike, disrespect, for the court system. Probably for corruption, racism, and general bullshit. I hear you, Wayne.

Uh, I’m a rebel, down to battle

Now or never, or whenever, in the ever

Fucking fantastic, fuck if you agree

I’m bright but I don’t give a fuck if you see me

Here he further stresses his divide from the mainstream, and says he’s going to combat that bullshit whenever and wherever, or never if need be. Just that he’s going to do what he has to.

Next, he reiterates that he IS smart, and that while he may be misunderstood, he knows his true colors, and that’s what matters. Veiled moral lesson there, kids.

[Chorus- Nina Simone]

I’m just a soul whose intentions are good

Oh lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood

[Verse 2- Lil' Wayne]

Uh, what’s understood ain’t gotta be explained

So for those who understand meet Tha Wayne

Perry Mason These two opening lines for the second verse reflect the same of the first verse, but shift from talking to those that don’t understand to those that do. So since we understand, we can finally meet/see/understand Wayne Carter as a person, not just a commercialized. pre-packaged rapper.

For eight and a half months I gave Ms. Cita pain

Now it’s Young Money baby, keep the change

My momma say fuck ‘em, and we the same

So, hello motherfucker you got some sheets to change

Huh, he was born early, cool. Anyways, these four lines are saying that his mother gave him life through blood and sweat, and he’s repaid that debt by lifting his mother out of poverty and being the best he can be “young money baby, keep the change”. Also, baby can be the generally used slang or as in being born; a young money baby.

His mother says fuck the haters, and he’s his mother’s son.

And ain’t it funny how people change like Easter Sunday

You know church fit them outfit

Though I lose him in the next two, these two lines are clearly referring to the hypocritical nature of (Christian) people, likely how they preach love, peace, tolerance, etc and then turn around and judge, how they just change back and forth on whims. And then he says that “church fit them outfit” which I take to mean that (the) Church matches their hypocrisy. Although:

Bright pink and green chest look house lit

Bright pinky rings but that ain’t about this

I honestly don’t really know what he’s going for here, but besides being a continuation of the previous thought, obviously he’s gotten off topic and says so.

What you ’bout bitch?

Excuse my French emotion in my passion

But I wear my heart on my sleeve like it’s the new fashion

First, he’s challenging/calling out his critics to say what they’re about, what they stand for.

Next, there is a play on the expression “excuse my French” in which he explains that the reason for his blunt honesty is that  he wears his heart on his sleeve “like it’s the new fashion”. That backs up the idea that he often has depth, hiding in plain sight. Half of what he says is meaningless (read: Lollipop), but he says it so that the other half may reach you.

What are you asking, if I don’t have the answer

It’s probably on the web, like I’m a damn tarantula

These two lines can be interpreted in two ways, I think. First, he could be referring to specific answers that are theorized by fans (such as this one), or he could be saying that if you’re asking about who he really is, what he believes, anything that you want to understand about him, it’s probably on the web. If that’s true, I would say that he would be using web to mean both internet, and reflect the idea that he is a product of many ideas, all of which are connected at least indirectly, like points on a web. I’m having trouble verbalizing this one, but hopefully you see where I’m going.

But I know you don’t understand

‘Cause you thought Lil’ Wayne is Weezy

But Weezy is Wayne

And here is the moment we’ve all been waiting for. And the answer to that mystery earlier. He expects the listener to be slightly confused (unless you understand, of course), but summarizes his entire point with the idea that Weezy is a part of him and not the other way around. Wayne created Weezy, just as Marshall Mathers/Eminem created Slim Shady (you’ll find that Wayne attempts to synthesize the best/unique aspects of most good rappers). You see, the thing is, Wayne is a director and an actor. He realized, unlike a lot of less-popular but socially-conscious rappers, that if he just straight up preached, he wasn’t going to succeed in doing good for him, his family, or the world. So instead of rejecting the system, he embraced it. And now he’s come to point where he can even influence it.

As he so cleverly says in the remix to Lollipop (which I see as a response to the understandable criticism of the original), he is everywhere, he’s it. Hide and go, he can go anywhere, eenie meenie meinie mo, he’s in your neighborhood (his influence on the suburban youth), be it a stereo, cd, iPod, your girlfriend’s fantasies, etc. And then as a proof of his fuck-you to the government/media/society that wants to control your kids, he tells the kids listening to wear a condom. His last lines of the song could be society saying “wrap it up”, as in knock it off. But, he’s so sweet, she wants to lick the rapper (read: he already has the youth in his palm)

“I am everywhere I’m it like, hide-and-go and I can go anywhere

Eenie-meenie-meinie-mo I’m in your, neighborhood

Area, CD thing, tape deck, iPod your girlfriend

And she say I got great sex

Safe sex is great sex, better wear a latex

‘Cause you don’t want that late text

That “I think I’m late,” text

Eh heh, so wrap it up

Bu-bu-but he’s so sweet, sh-she wanna lick the rapper”

Anyways, in the rest of “Don’t Get It”, Wayne goes on to talk and slightly ramble about racism in America, jails/prisons, the unfair sentences for powder cocaine vs. crack cocaine, how sex offenders are tolerated more than crack dealers, pointing out that the crack dealers sold crack to excape poverty and make it to the suburbs and asking why it’s anyone’s business whether that was HOW they got there, the illogical War on Drugs, how much Al Sharpton sucks, ending with a pretty clever bit on humanity, good and bad.

Now, this song is one of his more open, more consistently introspective, and one that focuses more on a particular theme than flow or soundplay. Also, this song was probably conceived in a moment of blazed brilliance and fully realized in a matter of minutes. At least that’s how my writing comes to me.

If this isn’t enough, I’ll come back with breakdowns of other songs (there are plenty to choose from) and even comparisons to songs from hip hop artists loved by those pretentious elitists who so naively hate Wayne.

Basically, this whole thing is a symptom of a larger problem. Well, probably many problems. First are the obvious (and not-so-obvious) ones, like the ones that Wayne addresses in “Don’t Get It” and his lines about his life in/and New Orleans, and the ones that all those underappreciated socially conscious rappers discuss. But to me, both the unthinking love for Wayne shown by his less thoughtful fans and the semi-thinking hatred of Wayne by his more self-righteous critics are both equally dangerous, for both proudly display their colors of ignorance in a world and country already overwhelmed.

In a word; work your way up to my level.

Shit, you can’t get on my level.

Lastly, if you just hate him because you think he’s gay; if that matters to you, then fuck off and kill yourself so that good people can sleep better. And if you hate him because you think he’s gay because that’s what the Bible tells you to think, that “fuck off” comes in a double dose.

Of Moths and Men

This can be rapped to “Dance with the Devil” by Immortal Technique.

—

—

Precious preconceptions illuminate preposterous despotisms

that desperately protect pretentious politicians who

Portray Dorian greyscale renditions in their portraits’ wall positions,

Twixt the sand and the foam, and the book of Hagakure

The 48 laws of power, bring to life one of Algernon’s dead flowers,

Rage, raging against the dying of the light of the fire,

College leaves the lacking of luster to lounge back into arms of a faulty sire while

Shadows dance high on the walls of that long lost cave with the blind that refuse to reach higher,

underground, earthbound sound reverb and rebound from the walls into and around

the uncool, calm and collected curses

that come crying from the echoing sound of silence in our verses,

Men are like moths, fluttering furiously to the flame,

backs borne against the current, we beat on in the same boat and the same game,

we’ll all burn out and fade away, be it a day or a year away, without a name,

less what I want is what I silently fear; to reach the end of the light and find a dark sphere,

but long before the Light comes anywhere near, Death with a grin is all ready and He’s here,

a devilish and dervish angel that came from somewhere, nowhere; st. elsewhere,

whispering; “please, please do not fear me”, and I don’t, but no one here seems to hear me,

For it is on Earth as it is in Heaven, whereas under a black sky we break the bread in our red hands

coughing up green and looking to the sand; Sphinx, riddle me this: where is that promised land?

With an hour-glass in my hand, and with my heart in command,

I’m soul-searching for diamonds in the sea-foam of tropical island strands,

here’s a philosophical lesson with two sides of the same coin in one hand,

a laissez-faire game of go and backgammon, bowtie time like a ribbon, see

chaos evolves in order, like dat old to the new world without the wicked wars and borders,

no pawns, nobles or cockroaches, just sound, emotion, and formerly lost-cause hopefuls.

I’m here like the tour deforce of five rings, listen as that fat flying pig lady sings,

I’m soaring through the first nine floors of Hell like I’m writing on Force wings,

I’m following my soul towards the Light, where my dreams they call me the Mothman,

Tao is like the Force, man, hand me over the Sandman,

I’m still smokin dope, but I’m lost and-

Help me, Erato and Euterpe, you’re my only hope; real talk, man.

Bits and Bins

A line is a breadthless length.

Imaginary, intangible, implacable

still it holds power over our very souls.

A riddle, it deceives us all into tomfoolery-;

I AM VOLDEMORT

And so are you; yin flows into yang.

The reaction is both opposite and equal.

-

Tell the quiet American to look closer and realize

that Pleasantville may be full of color, but we painted it.

In the beginning the world was gray.

Black and white, distinction, color.

This was our gift. Our gift to the world.

-

Every line blurs, slides in and out of focus.

The great divide parts the Red Sea,

but the grass is always greener.

And after all, what’s in a line?

H1N1

Like the black Death, I am alive.

I am everywhere, inside the air

and outside the heart.

Stem cells in hand, I place my self in your shoes.

Through your looking glasses, I can see what you feel,

But I do not feel it, and sometimes I am simply not there.

In a distant land, a mirror-imaged Muslim man on a Christian cross hangs in the balance-

his body oily and blood-drenched from the sweat of a war,

as I wipe the sweat from my brow in my studio.

We are nothing alike.

I think to myself as the crescent moon sinks below the stars to pray;

What did the Goths do “when in Rome”?

Unfettered souls don’t merely clash; they collide.

But as order rises from the blunt ashes of chaos,

so too does hope spring forth eternally from our collective unconscious.

Though history often repeats itself, as when the wheel of time turns,

the broken axle bears endlessly leftward

and so our covered caravan retraces its imprints in a spiral.

My power left my reason dumbfounded,

scrambling charts for the truth.

Day-An-Nighte

I am a manic hurricane hurtling in place towards the horizon.

But don’t I look at you like I see a new day?

My mind is a swirl of colors thrown into a washing machine.

Et cetera, et cetera, shanti, shanti, newsflash:

Judging from our look inside the eye, this perfect storm is now a tropical depression.

Only once my high is gone, I feel like crying, like buying,

but if my money’s run out, then, now and later, I feel like-

runlovediemaybeliveifwecanwastylerrightiamnotadroneandideserveathronebutnolalalai’mhappy
nowandlaterrepeatrinseandwhereamiandisthisthewayimsupposedtobeifeelcagedinmymindallhail
thecartermessiahlovelivelifeproceedprogressfuckthapoliceandthawhitemanfucksciencemedicine
educationamericameyoueverythingbullshitscreeeaaaammmmm&mstreamofwhateverthefuckicant
thinkmymindisalwaysonfireimhotbutimcold

I just change with seasons.

I am greater than or equal to the caliber of the Soul of Sylar and Peter,

but all work and no play makes even this a dull pen.

I just noticed a painting in my house that I have never seen before, but I’ve seen it everyday that I’ve lived here; I have no home. I am my own home and those few close to me are but extensions.

Does that mean they’re extensions of my soul?

I have so many lines, so many ideas, so many thoughts, so much. Connections everywhere, like truth, an element. Everywhere. Everywhere. Nowhere; what’s the difference (when you zoom out enough). Everything is alive and connected and illuminated all at once and it’s blinding. How do you live under such a light? Everyone needs the night. Dark doesn’t exist merely to be defeated by the light. To think otherwise is unwise. Am I really the only one that sees (sees the genius of tha Carter)? I feel like I’m taking craaaaazy pills! Hahah-

Intuitive aptitude. I understand. I SEE YOU. You cannot hide. I cannot hide. But under these sheets, I am a mess. We’re trading blows, but for what?

WHY

Slow down, Gandhi, you’re killing me. I vomit gray, flashback and to and fro. The masses bid for my heart, but is it worthwhile to lose your heart to save your soul? Vice versa! Like John Locke, I’m Lost in a maze, therefore I am a-maze-ing.

And when my face doesn’t quite match my head, remember what Cee-Lo sang so soulfully. But who’s gonna save mine?

Ah, nevermind! I should accept that I am truly alone, make it my strength or whatever bullshit you all spout in your high school mind and your holiest quasi-education. You, with your hipster posse (would lap this up if you thought I were Derrida) and your self-righteous horse. I’m not tall enough to stand up to God. Don’t you see? The answers are all around us, though admittedly they’re nowhere. But they’re RIGHT THERE. One of us is blind, and one has left the cave. The world locks me in a cage. I have no mouth and I must scre-. Who am I kidding? They don’t need to take my mouth. What good does screaming at a wailing wall do? Also, the wall is made of bullshit.

You can’t possibly-; you all wouldn’t understand anyways.

And that’s the worst part.