Lil Wayne
Lil Wayne & JAY-Z
Lil Wayne
Lil Wayne & T-Pain
Lil Wayne & Babyface
Lil Wayne
Lil Wayne
Lil Wayne & Robin Thicke
Lil Wayne & Kidd Kidd & Bobby V
Lil Wayne
Lil Wayne & D. Smith
Lil Wayne & Static Major
Lil Wayne & Busta Rhymes & Brisco
Lil Wayne & Betty Wright
Lil Wayne & Juelz Santana & Fabolous
Lil Wayne
Lil Wayne & Static Major & Kanye West
Lil Wayne
Lil Wayne
Lil Wayne
Lil Wayne
Lil Wayne
Lil Wayne
Lil Wayne
Lil Wayne
Lil Wayne
Lil Wayne closes Tha Carter III with a song reminiscent of Kanye’s West’s “Last Call”: a final track with two verses followed by an extended monologue about life. Instead of talking about his career, though, Wayne dives into the topics of mass incarceration, drug laws, and Al Sharpton.
[Intro: 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
[Verse 1: Lil Wayne]
Ugh, what’s understood ain’t got to be explained
But you don't understand me, so let me explain
Heh, stood in the heat, the flame
The snow, "Please, slow down, hurricane"
The wind blow, my dreads swang
"He had hair like wool, like Wayne"
Huh, dropping ashes in the Bible
I shake 'em out, and they fall on the rifle
Scary, Hail Mary, no tale-fairy
All real, very extraordinary
Perry Mason facin' the barrel if he tattle
My God is my judge; no gown, no gavel
A hound, a rebel, down to battle
Now or never, or whenever, and the F for...
"Fucking fantastic"—fuck if you agree
I'm bright, but I don't give a fuck if you see me
[Chorus: Nina Simone]
But I'm just a soul whose intentions are good
Oh, Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood
[Verse 2: Lil Wayne]
Ugh, what's understood ain't got to be explained
So for those who understand, meet Dwayne
For eight and a half months, I gave Miss Cita pain
Now it's Young Money, baby—keep the change
My mama say, "Fuck 'em!" And we the same
So hello, motherfucker, you got some sheets to change
And ain't it funny how people change like Easter Sunday?
You know; church fit, then out-fit
Bright pink and green chest look house-lit
Bright pinky rings, but that ain't about this
What you 'bout, bitch?
Excuse my French emotion and my passion
But I wear my heart on my sleeve like it's the new fashion
What are you askin'? If I don't have the answer
It's probably on the web, like I'm a damn tarantula
But I know you don't understand
'Cause you thought Little Wayne was Weezy, but Weezy is Wayne
[Chorus: Nina Simone]
But I'm just a soul whose intentions are good
Oh, Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood
[Spoken: Lil Wayne]
I'm watchin' TV the other day, right? Got this white guy on there talking 'bout Black guys. Talking about how young Black guys are targeted. Targeted by who? America.
You see, one in every one hundred Americans are locked up. One in every nine Black Americans are locked up. And see, what the white guy was trying to stress was that the money that we spend on sending a motherfucker to jail, a young motherfucker to jail, would be less to send his or her young ass to college.
See, and another thing the white guy was stressing was that our jails are populated with drug dealers. You know, crack cocaine? Yeah, stuff like that. Meaning, due to the laws we have on crack cocaine and regular cocaine, the police are... only... I don't want to say only right, but, shit... only logic by riding around in the hood all day, and not in the suburbs, because crack cocaine is mostly found in the hood. And um, you know, the other thing is mostly found—you know where I'm going... But why bring a motherfucker to jail if it's not gonna stand up in court? Because this drug ain't that drug. You know; Level 3, Level 4 drugs, shit like that.
Mhm... I guess it's all a misunderstanding. And um, I sit back and think, well shit, us young motherfuckers, you know, that one in every nine: We probably only selling the crack cocaine just because we in the hood, and it's not like your suburbs. We don't have the things that you have. Why? I really don't want to know the answer. But, I guess we just misunderstood, huh? Yeah.
You know, we don't have room in the jail now for the real motherfuckers, the real criminals, you know: sex offenders, rapists, serial killers, shit like that. Oh, don't get scared, don't get scared. I know you saw one of them sex offender papers! Don't trip, he live right on the end of your block, mhm. Yeah, that nigga live right down the street from you. Sex offender, on the Level 3 drug. Convicted, ex-con, yeah, check him out.
And what you got, you got daughters, son, what you got? Yeah, well you know what? (coughing) Don't stop the track. That's the good weed.
You know what? I have a fucking daughter. You understand me? And why the fuck would you bring my neighbor to jail just because the reason why he live next door to me ain't the reason why I live next door to him? Meaning, he didn't rap his way to my fuckin' neighborhood. He sold crack cocaine to get to my neighborhood. You move him out, bring him to jail for life, and then, you move in a sex offender. Hahaha. Then give me a paper. Haha. Is that a misunderstanding? 'Cause I don't understand it.
Another thing. Let me take my glasses off, 'cause I want to see the reaction on the faces when I say this. Uhh... Mr. Al Sharpton: here's why I don't respect you, and nobody like you.
Mhm, see, you're the type that gets off on gettin' on other people, haha. That's not good, no homo, and rather un-human, I should say. I mean, given the fact that humanity, well, good humanity, rather, to me, is helping one another, no matter your color or race. But this guy, and people like him, they'd rather speculate before they informate, if that's a word, haha. You know, "'spec before check," anyway. Meanin', I'd much rather you talk to me first and see if you can learn an opinion before you make one. Just my thought of good humanity, Mr. Sharpton, haha.
Hold on, I ain't finished wit' you man. Gotta pluck the ashes, mhm, hold on, um...
Mr. Sharpton, and anyone like you: You don't know me. So, if you're not gonna try to, then what you say or think about me, or whatever I do, is totally Casper the Friendly Ghost to me. And, it doesn't make you a good person to criticize before you improvise. Doesn't necessarily make you a bad person neither, but the characteristics fall heavily into bad's way, haha!
But, since I am human, I am good and bad as well. But I try my hardest to stay good. And some of the things I do and say may be bad, or just not too good. But I do try. So with that said, I don't fault you. I mean, you're only human. Good or bad. but I also don't respect you, and I don't care if that's good or bad, haha.
You see, you are no MLK, you are no Jesse Jackson. You are nobody, to me. You're just another Don King... with a perm. Just a little more political. And that just means you're a little un-human than us humans. And now, let me be human, by saying fuck Al Sharpton, and anyone like him.
Fuck if you understand me. I love being misunderstood. Haha, why? 'Cause I live in the suburbs, but I come from the hood. Bring the hook in!
[Chorus: Nina Simone]
But oh, I'm just a soul whose intentions are good
Oh, Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood
DontGetIt was written by Sol Marcus & Gloria Caldwell & Bennie Benjamin & Mousa & Rodnae & Lil Wayne.