Dear Mike,

I’m the greatest rapper alive, ya dig. Talk to me like you talking to the Dahlia Lama or Papa Smurf. I’m the dream like Malcom Luther the King or whatever the fuck that n*gga name is.

I love what I do. I put my all into it so I ain’t got no choice but to get better, you know. That’s why I’m the best right now. The world needs Wayne, nah mean. But once you get on that plateau, people want to fuck with you, they want to bring you down. And ya mans and them supposed to hold you down when that happens. Like that dude, Scrappy. He knew he was eating off of Scooby, so he held his folk down.

But everybody ain’t like that. I just had to deal with so much bullshit recently. I know you heard about it. It’s like when your friends tell you one thing…that they’re going to be there for you, and then when you need them, nah mean…they flip on you. Like I told them motherfuckers last night --- if they ain’t gonna be with me no more, die.

And now they’re trying to say I’m a junkie. Weezy need to go to rehab. Weezy sippin too much drank. Wayne need to leave that dro and them pills alone. A junkie can’t do what the fuck I do. I’m like Batman, Spiderman, He-Man…all them man’s, you know. I’m like Dr. Suess with the goose, I get so high, I sleep on the roof. I am the ultimate high, understand? I am my drug, you understand me?

I don’t care what nobody think. But this junkie shit, y’know. If I was a junkie, I wouldn’t be sitting in my muthafuckin’ million-dollar bus in my 15th year at the same muthafuckin’ company and business. 15 man. That’s like 15 – 3 + 8, ain’t I great? Wait that don’t add up, but fuck it, I’m a role model. I try to tell them. So what I do about this shit?

Weezy (Please Say That Baby)

---

Wayne,

What do your nose and this poster have in common?

On second thought, you’re probably on pill #2 and bottle #3, so you’re not going to get it.

Imagine yourself on top of those. Now fill in the blank for me: ___ on that rock.

I’ll say the baby if you get it right.

I have to give it to you: I never thought you would be the one to blow up out of Cash Money. And while I admire your success, I’m not naïve enough to think that success means you’ll pass the urine test.

Now I think your problems with your friends are real, but you should focus on Wayne right now.

That’s you in just about every interview I see you in. I’ve seen you pour lean in a glass of Hawaiian punch. When you take a piss, I bet it looks like CVS had a spill on aisle four. Though I’m certain you haven’t had a cold in the last five years, that can’t be doing much for your health. Ask DJ Screw and Big Moe about that.

You smoke weed, you pop Xanax, you drink lean, and now I hear you’re blowing Britney up your nose. No wonder you’ll do a song with anyone from Soulja Boy to Boy George. You have a habit to support.

Man, wake up! I’m trying to help you. As I as I saying, you need to get it together.

I’m not sure if you realize it or not, but if you keep on going at the rate you’re going, you’ll be stuffed in a duffle bag. To be honest, I read Dr. Suess when I was a kid, so I don’t really fool with you like that, but I hate the idea of anyone squandering their success over an addiction to Robitussin.

Think of it this way:

Do you want to be the next Hov or the future:

I think the only one who will appreciate you not having any teeth is Baby.

P.S. Man, I’m sorry, I know you’re tired of folks asking, but I have to do it.

Who is the better kisser?

Labels: help me