Redistribution of Wealth
No matter your political leanings, whether you think it is a problem or a feature, it is undeniable that the wealthiest citizens in our country control an increasing percentage of the total resources. This trend, this widening gap, contributes to our population’s morale, our relationships with each other, even influences the art, movies and music that we produce.
Many argue for a gradual redistribution of some wealth, to ensure more people living in this country have their basic needs met. Others think that individuals should be allowed to accumulate vast personal wealth far out of proportion to the amount of labor they contribute because the markets are free, and as long as they remain free, the world will continue to work as it should. The way it is working right now.
You might guess which side of the debate we are on here at whatsthesitch.com, but that isn’t the focus of this article. We aren’t here to point out the glaring self-centeredness of our economic system, or how it perpetuates human conflict and is contributing directly to our own demise by scraping at the edges of our planet for every last morsel.
We are hoping to redirect focus to one group that has yet to be included in the public conversation around wealth redistribution, namely hip hop artists. Rappers, MCs, lyricists. Hip hop music has, since its beginnings, been thick with themes of making money, acquiring bling, and showing it to everyone willing to look (or listen). This has been one of the genre’s energizing through-lines; we all love to imagine ourselves spitting fresh bars, dripped in jewels, plenty more where that came from.
I was perusing celebritynetworth.com the other evening, as I do to wind down after a long day at the ol’ glue factory. I like to compare myself directly to the rich and famous in order to better estimate my own self-worth, a healthy habit I plan to continue. While scrolling I came across a shocking number: Lil’ Wayne, aka Dwayne Michael Carter Jr., aka Birdman Jr., has an estimated net worth of $120 million. I clicked refresh. I looked at a different celebrity wealth aggregator. Estimates were similar. $120 million. Is that right? Is that the amount we think Lil’ Wayne is worth? To us, the American people?
This figure seemed low to me. Sure, it’s enough to live comfortably, to put his kids through college. But, in my opinion, what he has given us deserves somewhat higher compensation. Is this more evidence of our country’s wealth inequality?
Lil’ Wayne grew up in New Orleans, famously in the Hollygrove neighborhood. He was discovered at the precocious age of 13 by Bryan Williams (aka Birdman) and signed to Cash Money Records. The label itself was young at the time, having been founded by Birdman and his brother Ronald Williams a few years before. By 1999, at the age of 16, Lil’ Wayne featured on his first single with label-mates Juvenile and producer Mannie Fresh, the memorable and chart topping, “Back That Azz Up.”
You likely recall Juvenile’s aggressive hook, though you may not remember the smooth outro by a still pubescent Wayne.
Now, now, now, now, now after you back it up then stop,
Then wha-wha-what, drop-drop it like it’s hot,
Now after you back it up then stop,
Now wha-wha-wha-what, drop it like it’s hot,
Now drop it like it’s hot, drop-drop it like it’s hot…
The phrase, “drop it like it’s hot,” had been used before, colloquially and on a few lesser known hip hop songs. It is intended as a suggestion for any dancers enjoying the track, with the it referring to the dancing person’s bottom. Teenage Lil’ Wayne and the Cash Money Crew lifted the phrase into mainstream parlance. Years later, in 2004, well-known hip hop artists Snoop Dogg and Pharrell had a song by the same name that also topped the charts. While their single was catchy, I think much of the song’s success has to be attributed to the chorus subliminally bringing listeners back to the excitement of first hearing Lil’ Wayne’s scratchy vocals five years before.
On his 2008 song, “Lollipop,” featuring Static Major, after the second chorus (and its intricate candy-based metaphors), Lil’ Wayne gets in the last word on the matter:
Now after you back it up, don’t stop,
Drop it, shawty, drop it like it’s hot,
Ooh, dro-dro-dro-drop it like it’s hot,
Do it, shawty, don’t stop…
One of Lil’ Wayne’s hallmarks is his ability to stream his consciousness outward in the form of an organized artistic persona, seemingly without premeditation. He regularly professes that he does’t write his lyrics down but rather raps them in the moment from the top of his head. Most of his versus don’t have a topic so much as a path, a thread of thought pulled from deep near the base of his skull, reptilian and effortless, punctuated by jubilant yelps and bird calls. After a few couplets the momentum is such that listeners need to stick around and find out how Wayne will manage to complete a thought. Any inelegance is more than made up for with authenticity and, just when you think he is rambling, he rewards your patience with a punchline.
I’m a vegetarian, man, I only eat beats.
Wear a lot of carats, and I smoke the best greens,
No beef in my grocery bag,
Just some Swishers and a whole bunch of cans of whoop-ass.
- “Put Some Keys On That,” Da Drought 3
[They] don’t wanna see me ‘cause I’m better in bold,
The only time I will depend is when I’m 70 years old,
That’s when I can’t hold my shit within, so I shit on myself,
‘Cause I’m so sick and tired of shittin’ on everybody else.
- “I’m Me,” The Leak
Abracadabra, I’m up, like Viagra,
I just do this shit for my clique, like Adam Sandler,
I control hip-hop and I’mma keep it on my channel.
- "3 Peat,” Tha Carter III
Paper chasing, tell that paper, “Look, I’m right behind ya"
Real G’s move in silence, like Lasagna,
People say I’m borderline crazy, sorta kinda,
Woman of my dreams, I don’t sleep so I can’t find her.
- “6 foot 7 foot,” Tha Carter IV
I won’t bore you by listing more of his lyrics. There are too many examples and I’ll only get myself into trouble by choosing. Not to mention, reading a few lines of italic text is an inadequate representation of a full verse articulated by Mr. Carter.
I would direct you to listen to some yourself, but even this task is herculean; Lil’ Wayne is well-known as one of the most prolific hip hop artists of all time. Even while writing this piece about how we should give Lil’ Wayne more money (which I’ll get back to shortly) I listened to a number of songs I hadn’t heard, great ones at that.
According to lilwaynehq.com (the self-professed “biggest” Lil Wayne website online), the artist has 1,818 unique tracks to his name. He has released 14 studio albums, 26 mixtapes, a handful of compilation albums, EPs, and of course has been featured on a dizzying number of other artists’ tracks. The man has been recording himself rapping for more than two decades, and he doesn’t take breaks from it for long. There was a period between 2002 and 2009 when he put out 18 mixtapes. During this time he also put out Tha Carter I, II and III, as well as two other studio albums that went gold. That is unprecedented productivity.
Whether you enjoy Lil’ Wayne’s music or not has a large bearing on whether you will agree with the majority of this article. That probably goes without saying. We know he started younger than almost anybody, made more music than almost anybody, and did much of it without writing anything down. He has stayed relevant for decades in spite of multiple face tattoos. He has the second most entries on the Billboard Hot 100 of all time, just above Elvis Presley.
Yet, on wealthygorilla.com's list of of the 25 richest rappers in the world in 2020, he was #14. Tied with LL Cool J. Is that right? Does this seem fair and just?
Looking at the list, there are substantial rappers above Wayne, rappers who also deserve to have fabulous wealth and riches. Jay-Z, P. Diddy, Dr. Dre, Russell Simons, Master P, Snoop Dogg, Drake, Eminem, Ice Cube, Pharrell… no disrespect, but Lil’ Wayne is as talented an artist as any of them, and I’d say better than quite a few. The public knows it. Yet, these other rappers are worth two, three… seven, eight times more? Than the Birdman Jr.? Are they eight times better at getting the party jumping?
Thomas Piketty is the contemporary French economist who first formally compared the top one per cent’s share of the wealth against everyone else’s, a conception of inequality we are all now familiar with. In his new book, Capital and Ideology, he writes:
“Every human society must justify its inequalities: unless reasons for them are found, the whole political and social edifice stands in danger of collapse.” **
I’m confident Mr. Piketty would agree; we must, as a society, justify why Lil’ Wayne is only the 14th richest rapper. If we cannot (which we here at whatsthesitch.com are at a loss to do) then we must redistribute some wealth to Lil’ Wayne. Either among the rappers themselves through some sort of an endowment or, if need be, with a small increase in income taxes on the very wealthy (a tax Lil’ Wayne would of course be exempt from).
If we do not make this right, we risk warping our understanding of hip hop’s value, followed quickly by disillusionment, social isolation and widespread panic. We are already seeing the beginnings of this in some of our major metropolitan areas. We need to unmake this injustice; we need to give Lil’ Wayne between fifty and one hundred million dollars, and we need to do it soon.
** One of our monkeys was fortunate to pull this quote from a recent issue of the The New Yorker magazine as he perused the cartoons.
