I’ve listened to “Dr. Carter,” “Georgia Bush” and “Shooter.” While they’re all decent, I don’t see what merits the Greatest Rapper Alive title in any of them.

I can think of better “here’s what’s wrong with MCs today” tracks than “Dr. Carter” – for instance, YGMoff of Atmosphere’s mix tape “Strictly Leakage.”

I can think of better call-outs of politicians than “Georgia Bush” – for instance, Immortal Technique’s Point of No Return.

Lil’ Wayne isn’t bad – I just don’t understand what makes him the “Best Rapper Alive.”

I think the song that best showcases Lil’ Wayne’s skills as a rapper is Dr. Carter, one of the mid-album cuts off of Tha Carter III. This song is cool because he takes a beat that you would expect to hear MF Doom rapping over and totally owns it.

I think another song that does a good job of showcasing Wayne’s skill as a lyricist and rapper is
Georgia Bush, off of the Dedication 2 Mixtape. A lot of his best mixtape songs work because he not only jacks the the beat from a current single (in this case “Georgia” by Field Mob and Ludacris) but he also mimics the flow of the original rapper, while at the same time increasing the complexity of the wordplay substantially. Not only does he do this particularly well on this song, but he also subjects the causes and effects of the Bush administration’s (non)response to Hurricane Katrina to a level of scrutiny it definitely deserves.

If these are some of the Lil’ Wayne songs that you’ve already heard (and disliked), try some of these:

Shooter

Dedication 2

We Takin’ Ova (Remix)

Dough Is What I Got

Mr. Carter

yo, it’s the lil’ weezy, it’s the baller from the eighties
busting out the bolt-cutters to unlock all the Yalies
’cause all my jackets are trippin’, all my ho’s is strippin’
and when I see Pistol Pete he’ll get a pistol-whippin’
uh, I’m not psycho, uh, I’m emphatic
driving up to Boston with a semi-automatic
telling all the snitches that I’m lookin’ for Fenzel
run him over on Mass Ave with my mad Benz-o
stay offa my stage or you-a get some rages
cracking open yo chest like Cosby’s picture pages
got the diamonds with gloss, got the ladies in floss
smoke you like a island monster, son, you just got lost
I’m producing three mixes for each one of your essays
you try to flee to Mexico and I’m like como, ese?
cooking up the rock up in the skull of your brainpan
leave you lock up in the box as if your name was Rain Man.

WHAT.

And Fenzel, in the words of Egon Spangler, “Your mother.”

@Perich, I don’t know any of Wayne’s stuff yet, mostly because I haven’t had the chance to acquire his albums through, uh, through “means.” But I too would be interested in particular recommendations of the audience…