It’s hard to be sympathetic towards someone who talks as if he sucks his own dick --especially if you refuse to sip the Vicks and fully get behind the hype. Although he’s become somewhat of a regular target on this blog, the more I look at Lil’ Wayne, the more I want to pity him rather than mock him. He probably could give a less ___ about my pity, and would likely point to his wallet to smack some reality into me. But that would be the same response I regularly hear from all the 20-something (or younger) club goers strung out on pills, powder, or both that swear that they’re on cloud nine and that the drugs they’re on are just pushing them a little higher than they already feel.
Towards the end of this segment, MTV switches its focus from Wayne’s community activities to his now infamous lean habit. But, if you keep up with his press (or some of his songs), you know Wayne’s affinity for drugs doesn’t begin and end with codeine. He takes uppers; he takes downers; his nostrils are starting to bear resemblance to a certain red and white can.
It’s a shame that someone that’s gone from the bottom on totem pole at Cash Money to the last man standing might jeopardize his place in history because he can’t kick a habit.
It’s even worse that a man praised for breaking the mold in hip hop might end up as nothing more than another act to commit one of music’s biggest clichés.
In most of the interviews I’ve seen of him over the last year, he often speaks in incoherent ramblings where he slurs his words, sounding as if he needs a pillow and/or detox.
There he is, standing there with a Styrofoam cup in hand, drinking his future away as he openly boasts of a habit that’s already killed a huge portion of Houston’s rap community.
“It’s not bad, it’s really for people with colds…like a really bad cold. It’s like Robitussin to the 30th power.”
Forget the itch: Lil’ Wayne’s got the seven year sniffles.
As for people who dare suggest that Wayne let go of certain bad habits, Wayne Winehouse shares his wisdom on the matter:
Do your history, do your research," he vented. "It ain't that easy — feels like death in your stomach when you stop doing that sh--. You gotta learn how to stop, you gotta go through detox. You gotta do all kinds of stuff. Like I said, I'm a selfish-ass n---a. I feel like everything I do is successful and productive. It's gonna be hard to tell me I'm slipping. It's hard to sit and tell a n---a 'Stop.' 'F---, how can we tell this n---a to stop when every f---ing thing he do is successful?
What I think Wayne and others like him fail to own up to is that happy people aren’t high all the time. They’re not on Xanax, they’re not writing odes to extasy, and they’re not dropping hints on wax that they’re miserable, hence the foray into mood-altering substances. We all have our vices, and sometimes those vices make it difficult for anyone to step in and tell someone else how they should live. But what’s the point in keeping silent if you know one’s man’s vice is another man’s death wish?
Over the weekend, I went into the restroom of a club and noticed a group of people doing lines of coke inside of a stall. It wasn’t a surprise, given that a bunch of people outside of the bathroom were already into their weekend ritual of pill popping their away into outer space. I knew one of the people coming out of the stall. I noticed a while ago that he always wore shades - no doubt trying to hide the obvious.
He, like other addicts, be it drugs, alcohol, or their own hype, could come up with a bevy of reasons as to why their lives are so great, and how happy they are. Most of these reasons are rooted in materialism and delusions of grandeur. As for their unacknowledged addiction goes, it’s only “to get them through the weekend” or assist them in their momentary “escape.” And if you question whether this will hurt them in the long run, they, like Wayne, will point out how well they’re doing in an effort to justify their resistance to changing.
Stepping back onto the dance floor, it wasn’t long before Wayne started playing. As the most popular and visible emcee in the game, it’s no surprise that he typically draws the biggest reaction out of people. With rhymes reeking of self-indulgence and self-congratulatory sentiments, it’s the perfect soundtrack for people trying to convince themselves into thinking they’re on top of the world versus being willing prisoners of their own drug-supported guises.
Wish I can give you this feeling that I feel like buying And if my dealer don’t have no more, then I feel like dying
It seems that behind all his defensive talk on camera, deep down he knows the deal. I wonder if/when he'll ever do something about it.
MTV