Lil wayne why is he the best

From his lyrical style to his clever wordplay and chart-topping hits, Dwayne Michael Carter Jr. Among other accolades, back in , the legend made history when he surpassed Elvis Presley by having the most Billboard Hot chart hits as a solo act. Check them out below! Although, 50 cent was one of the first to capitalize on mixtape success, Tunechi elevated the game by taking it to another level.

Young Money Imprint: Young Money Entertainment was founded in and has greatly impacted the hip hop landscape since its inception. Undoubtedly, when Wayne birthed Young Money, it was one of his best career moves that directly helped launch the careers of Nicki Minaj and Drake, two of the biggest artists in music today.

However, Young Money extends beyond the music footprint. Within the last few years, the rap superstar has entered the sports arena with the launch of Young Money Sports.

It is a premiere sports agency that was established by in , and it handles the marketing and branding efforts of their signed athletes. Many would agree to disagree, but it was definitely an opening for other rap artists such as Future, Migos, and Lil Yachty to heavily utilize the distinctive sound. Wayne had spent the past few years cultivating this rockstar persona, and now, fresh out of Rikers, he was debuting a new song on an MTV Unplugged session.

The rockstar thing was working out. His inflection makes it one of his most existential-feeling hooks too. Over a Maestro beat, he raps his ass off for three minutes straight. A rapper so big appearing on a track with Fat Joe was another sign that hip-hop was rapidly changing throughout the 00s.

While not an example of his best lyrics, the song has become a staple of every celebration in black America and an early signifier that Wayne would be a star. Few rappers are tied to their city like Wayne is to his. He was at his most convincing in this mode on Tha Carter II , on which his fame and power were in perfect balance. After that, he got too big to kick it like this. He and Wayne have a storied career, but this is his only appearance on a Lil Wayne studio track.

If you had to bring one song from Tha Carter to a desert island, this would be it. Wayne sounds hungry, like he could have rapped on this thing forever. That's my word. Then he went to prison, and for nine months, the world got a taste of what music might look like without Lil Wayne. And of course, that only enhanced the mystique.

Not unlike the way we listen to Jimi Hendrix or old Nirvana albums to experience some sort of vicarious transcendence, "Free Weezy" became its own sort of rallying cry. Because you what's bigger than the biggest rapper on earth? The biggest rapper on earth that's invisible. That was Wayne the past nine months. His prison sentence gave us a hint of what might happen if he ever dies. But not everybody understands the appeal, of course.

Which brings us today. Lil Wayne's out of prison, and the man that the New Yorker once compared to Bob Dylan is still alive, and returning home to enjoy the height of his influence in a way that all those other artists never could. And with so many people flipping out to celebrate the return of this would-be hip-hop deity, there are just as many that still don't get it. For every Bill Clinton and Barack Obama, two men that call themselves Weezy fans, there are still skeptics shaking their head, asking "What's so special about a rapper that raps about all the same things as other rappers?

That e does it more often, and on more people's songs? That he has a weird voice? What's so earth-shattering about that? The mythology surrounding him— GQ once likened him to "a Sufi dervish or a pentecostal that speaks in tongues"—is a whole separate discussion. But let's discuss the music. Because it's true; he talks about nothing different from any other would-be gangster rhyming about women, drugs, guns, and money.

Isn't that what's wrong with hip-hop? I was on a date recently with a girl who doesn't like rap. When I pressed her for an explanation, she said, "It just all sounds the same, you know? That's every rap song, ever. She's totally right, of course. As far as mainstream Hip-Hop's concerned, that pretty much nails it on the head. But as I stammered to defend my musical tastes, I added, "The creativity isn't necessarily about what they're saying. It's how they say it. And that's where Wayne wins.

He's better than anybody on earth. When he raps about drugs: "red drank, blue pill, white dust, yes I love my country bitttttttttch! Weaving together arcane pop culture references with unlikely metaphors, a playful sense of humor, and the swagger that underpins every rap song, ever, Lil Wayne plays into every stereotype that's ever plagued gangster rap, then makes it all original and irresistible.

People criticize him for making too much music, releasing all of it to the public, mostly free of charge. So much that it blends together into one meaningless medley of metaphors and banal messages. It makes him taboo to the purists. Because hip-hop began as a movement, and lyrics are supposed to mean something. Weezy is just proof that true hip-hop is dead, according to critics. But what if he's personifies rebirth?

What if the death of hip-hop coincided with its acceptance among the mainstream, and suddenly, it's just another genre. If you can look at it that way, you begin to see why meaning is mostly irrelevant.

Nobody worries Nirvana's angsty, anti-social messages. With them, it's all about the music, and how it's different than anything we've heard from anybody else. Why should hip-hop be different? Instead of a guitar, Wayne's best instrument is his drug-addled, wandering mind and the raspy, blunt-weathered voice that goes with it. Coherence is beside the point. Who needs meaning when you can rap over a Beatles sample and say, "I'm from the dirt where the Beatles and John Lennon be at, and these niggas lookin' yellow like a penalty flag.

If you want to get really abstract with it—as far as hip-hop's rebirth is concerned—you could argue he's the first post-modern rapper we've ever.