DISGRACELAND - Lil Wayne: Murder Squads, A Pre-Teen Suicide Attempt, a Year at Rikers and More Hits than Elvis

Episode Date: April 27, 2021

Lil Wayne grew up on the mean streets of New Orleans. His father split when he was two, and his stepdad was shot before he was a teenager. Wayne poured his pain into his rhymes and started cutting tracks for Cash Money Records, seeing hip-hop as the only way out of a violent scene. When his mother forced him to quit rapping, the only way out Wayne saw was suicide. Miraculously, he survived and went on to become one of the most successful artists of all-time, staying true to his roots throughout all his triumphs and tribulations. To see the full list of contributors, see the show notes at www.disgracelandpod.com. To listen to Disgraceland ad free and get access to a monthly exclusive episode, weekly bonus content and more, become a Disgraceland All Access member at disgracelandpod.com/membership. Sign up for our newsletter and get the inside dirt on events, merch and other awesomeness - GET THE NEWSLETTER Follow Jake and DISGRACELAND: Instagram YouTube X (formerly Twitter)  Facebook Fan Group TikTokSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This is exactly right. Double Elvis. When a group of women discover they've all dated the same prolific con artist, they take matters into their own hands. I vowed, I will be his last target. He is not going to get away with this. He's going to get what he deserves. We always say that trust your girlfriends. Listen to the girlfriends.

Trust me, babe. On the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. This season on Dear Chelsea with me, Chelsea Handler, we have some fantastic guests like Amelia Clark. When like young people come up to me and they want to be an actor or whatever. My first thing is always, can you think of anything else that you can do? Rather be disappointed in. Do that.

David O'Yellowo. I love this podcast, whether it's therapy or relationships or religion or sex or addiction or you just go straight for the guts. Dennis Leary, Gaten Matarazzo from Stranger Things, Tana Monsu, Camilla Morone, Carrie Kenny Silver, and more. Listen to these episodes of Dear Chelsea on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Just like great shoes, great books take you places. Through unforgettable love stories and into conversations with characters you'll never forget.

I think any good romance, it gives me this feeling of like, like butterflies. I'm Danielle Robay, and this is bookmarked by Reese's Book Club from Hello Sunshine and IHeart Podcast, where we dive into the stories that shape us on the page and off. Each week I'm joined by authors, celebs, book talk stars, and more for conversations that will make you laugh, cry, and add way too many books to your TBR pile. Listen to bookmarked by Reese's Book Club on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcast. Brought to you by Cotton. of our lives. Disgraceland is a production of Double Elvis. The stories about Lil Wayne are insane.

He attempted suicide by shooting himself in the chest when he was just 12 years old. His stepfather was violently murdered. He was a child star. And later, while one of the biggest stars on the planet, he was imprisoned for a year's time. Lil Wayne was raised on the streets of New Orleans during a point in that city's history when the murder rates skyrocketed and neighbor. were terrorized by kill squads, patrolling Nola with murder, blazily spray-pated across gang members' vehicles to leave no doubt to their intentions. Lil Wayne overcame all of that and more to become one of the most successful hip-hop artists of all time, an artist with more hits than Elvis, yes, Elvis, and an artist that to this day still makes great music. That music I played for you

at the top of the show, that wasn't great music. That was a preset loop from my mellow truce, called Coleco Sneak, MK1. I played you that loop because I can't afford the rights to like a G6 by Far East Movement featuring the cataracts in Dev. And why would I play you that specific slice of syserb sipping cheese could I afford it? Because that was the number one song in America on November 4th, 2010, and that was the day Lil Wayne was released from Rikers Island Prison for gun charges, proving once again that Little Wayne cannot be counted out.

On this episode, an attempted suicide, a violent murder, a year in Rikers, and the irrepressible Little Wayne. I'm Jake Brennan, and this is disgrace land. Hip-hop phenon, Little Wayne, was glued to his television set. His Boston Red Sox were nearly dead. Bottom of the night, three outs away from a humiliating American League championship series sweep at the hands of their hated rights. rivals the vaunted New York Yankees.

Yankees closer Mariano Rivera with his deadly cut fastball was more of an assassin. There was little hope. But then, a lead-off walk to Red Sox seven-hole hitter, Kevin Millar. And suddenly, there was life. There was life for future Red Sox fan Lil Wayne, too. Even though he lived in one of the deadliest cities in the world, New Orleans. Except his name wasn't yet Lil Wayne.

It was Dwayne Michael Carter Jr., and he was, wasn't even close to being the international hip-hop multi-platinum sensation he would become in the early 21st century. Howie became a Red Sox fan, the world still isn't sure, but back in the early 90s, he was just another kid knocking around New Orleans, the home of bounce music, a speaker-knocking form of hip-hop that was uniquely southern. Up tempo, big bass, brass band hooks, Mardi Gras Indian chants, call-and-response choruses, party rhymes, street-smart rhymes, booty raps, the twerk, the clasp. The lyrics about the many glories of the many fine asses out shaking it on New Orleans dance floor soon gave way to lyrics more reflective of the violent reality encompassing the city.

In 1994, in New Orleans, the murder rate reached a staggering 424 people. One of the unfortunate victims was 32-year-old Kim Groves. She had recently filed a complaint against New Orleans police officer Len Davis. She saw Davis pistol whip a nine-year-old in her neighborhood. A nine-year-old. Kim couldn't look the other way, so she went to the cops. A day later, her body was found a block from her home in the lower ninth ward, with a 32-caliber police-issued bullet in her skull.

That's just one example of the extreme violence and prevailing lawlessness of New Orleans in the early 90s. Gang violence was sweeping New Orleans right alongside the consistent spread of crack cocaine. Nautorious Mets gang members terrorized New Orleans citizens with their murderous ways, rolling through the city in their infamous black pickup truck, brazenly spray-painted with murder across the side. The kill truck was used for just that, for killing. Whenever you saw the truck out on the streets, you knew a body was about to drop. And bodies dropping was a regular occurrence. And the rising New Orleans murder rate of the early 90s spawned a strange t-shirt ritual.

Everywhere you'd look, you'd see the T-shirts of the dead on the backs of locals. Remembrance teas printed up to honor the victims of gang violence with their pictures, usually some sort of biblical quote in a parting message from loved ones. In memory of Kilo G, rest in peace, UNLV Yellowboy, Forever a G, Pimp Daddy. Kilo G, UNLV Yellowboy, Pimp Daddy, three of New Orleans Rising Hip Hop Stars, each ascending in accordance with both the rise of bounce music and the New Orleans murdering. Starbound, but street-born, UNLV Yellow Boy, mints no words about where he was from or what was on his mind. Like most people in New Orleans at the time, murder. In one of his early

rhymes on Dragham in the River, Yela unambiguously threatened fellow rapper Mystical's life, pledging to dump his corpse in a record label owner's backyard. Yellow was also rumored to have shot up the house of Cash Money Records label boss Brian Williams, aka Birdman, supposedly going as far as to pistol whip him. Yellow boy died unexpectedly of gunshot wounds at 23 years old, sitting in his car. Pimp Daddy met a similar fate, murdered at 18, shot in cold blood. Kilo G, the same shot in his house. He was only 20. They would all die, but Dwayne Michael Carter would live, but not without pain. His father split when he was two years old. He dealt with it from before we could remember. It wasn't so bad, though. He and his mother had rabbit. Reginald

McDonald, his stepdad. Rabbit held it down on the home front and stood tall out on the block. Every morning, Dwayne, who is now calling himself Wayne, dropped the D in protest of his father's abandonment, his father who shared the same name with him. Every morning, Wayne's mom would get up and go to work as a cook. Wayne would get up and ditch school and hit the corner, and Rabbit would get up and hit the corner too, a different corner with the OGs while Wayne kept his corner with the young G's. The message, however, was clear. like stepfather like son. Wayne and Rabbit connected.

Rabbit was only in his mid-20s while Wayne was entering high school, and the generation gap barely registered. Neither did the notion of being a child. Regardless, Rabbit was a strong parental influence on Little Wayne. They had a connection. Wayne had someone to look up to, to live up to, and perhaps more important, someone to look out for him on the streets.

But that wouldn't last. The truck rolled up on Rabbit fast, just like the jump-up boys from 17th and high. High Grove, whoever these dudes were, they weren't fucking around. Before Rabbit knew it, the dudes in the truck were out on the curb outside the club with him. Their hands were on him quickly, and they shoved him in the front seat, jumped in behind him, slammed the door shut, screeched off, hit a nearly abandoned gas station a couple blocks away, threw Rabbit out under the ground and pumped seven shots into him. He couldn't take all of them if you could. Rabbit died instantly. For what reason

no one knew, especially not Little Wayne Carter, who not only lost his dad, but now. just lost his stepdad. Wayne poured his pain into his new passion, rapping. He put together rhymes in his head. He saw it as a possible path, if not a way out, then at least a way towards something. And any path involving hip-hop in New Orleans in the early 90s went nowhere without first going through the doors of cash money records. Lil Wayne somehow hustled up label owner Birdman Williams' home phone number and started freestyling raps onto his voicemail machine. And this led to an invite to cash money's offices. Wayne's teenage charisma and confidence landed him a gig as Birdman's Aaron Boy, and soon enough his talent as an MC, despite his young age, led to a record deal with Cash Money.

His dreams were coming true, but his mom would have none of it. Hip-hop was as violent as the corner. In New Orleans, it was all the same scene, the same violent scene. His mom laid down the law, no more rapping, no more Birdman, no more dreams of a hip-hop career. She had a a dead boyfriend and wasn't about to have a dead son. It was crushing. Wayne loved his mom, but he loved hip-hop, and now it was being taken away from him, just like a stepdad had been and his dad before that. Wayne was miserable, angry, confused. In New Orleans, a city where it seemed the only way out was in a body bag. Wayne had found a way potentially in hip-hop via his talent, and now that dream was crushed. He wasn't going to just stand by and let that happen.

He went hunting for the gun, rabbit's gun, the blue steel torus nine millimeter. He found it in his mother's bedroom. He headed back to his own room, jacked the volume on his stereo. The speakers bled with the scorched feedback of his favorite band, Nirvana. He raised the pistol to his chest, pushed the barrel hard into his skin, steady the finger on the trigger, closed his eyes, and pulled. There's two golden rules that any man should live by. Rule one, never mess with a country girl. You play stupid games, you get stupid prizes.

And rule two, never mess with her friends either. We always say that, trust your girlfriends. I'm Anna Sinfield, and in this new season of the girlfriends, Oh my God, this is the same man. A group of women discover they've all dated the same prolific con artist. I felt like I got hit by a truck. I thought, how could this happen to me? The cops didn't seem to care.

So they take matters into their own hands. I said, oh, hell no. I vowed. I will be his last target. He's going to get what he deserves. Listen to the girlfriends. Trust me, babe. On the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcast.

Your husband is not who you think he is. Your body is not what you thought it was. Your identity is formed by a secret history. I'm Danny Shapiro. And these are just a few of the stunning stories I'll be exploring the 14th season of family secrets. And just then, we felt the plain turn in the air, so much so that the bags that were under people's seats

just kind of flew into the aisle. Each week, we dive head first into the complex power of secrecy, how it shapes our identities and relationships, and how it ultimately can reveal to us our truest selves. My daughter, she's pretending she doesn't know, but is trying to cook and feed me and keep me alive because I wasn't eating anything and me pretending like everything was fine. He kind of showed me out of the way and said, move.

And he went out of the front door and he jumped in a car and drove off. And that was the last time I saw him. Listen to season 14 of Family Secrets, starting May 7th on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. This season on Dear Chelsea, with me, Chelsea Handler, we have some fantastic guests like Amelia Clark. When like young people come up to me, and they want to be an actor or whatever. My first thing is always,

can you think of anything else that you can do? Rather be disappointed in. Do that. Dennis Leary. I wake up and I'm hitting him in the head with a water bomb. And Bruce Jenner is on the aisle in a karate stance. Like he's about to attack me. Like making karate noises.

And his entire, the Kardashians family over there, everybody's going, and the air marshal is trying to grab my arms and screaming. I immediately know that I've been at sleepwalk. David O'Yello. I love this podcast, whether it's therapy or relationships or religion or sex or addiction or you just go straight for the guts. Guy Branham. So anyway, Nicole Kidman broke up with Keith Thurban. Being half of a country couple was always a hat she was going to wear, not like a life she was going to lead.

Oh, interesting. I like that. Did you practice that on your way over? Gaten Matarazzo from Stranger Things. Tena Monsu. Camilla Morone, Carrie Kenny Silver, and more. Listen to these episodes of Dear Chelsea on the IHeart Radio app,

Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Remarkably, the Red Sox were back. Down by one in the bottom of the ninth. Speedy Dave Roberts entered to pinch run for Boston. Bill Miller was at the plate. Roberts leaned into a big lead off first base, stealing on the mind. of socks fans.

Miller took the pitch. Roberts took off for second. The Yankees' throw from the plate was late. Late, late, late, late, late, late, late, late, late. Late, late, late, late, late, late, late. And the Red Sox were still alive. So too was Lil Wayne, even though he'd just shot himself. He was just 12 years old, lying on his bedroom floor with a bullet in his

chest, alive but barely. New Orleans PD were on the scene before the paramedics. Four cops entered the bedroom. Three of them immediately started searching for drugs and weapons, ignoring the near-dead kid on the ground with a fresh hole in his chest struggling to breathe. But one cop, the one they called Uncle Bob, got down on his knees with Little Wayne, began comforting him while sussing out the damage. One of the other cops radioed in for status on the ambulance. He told Uncle Bob to chill. The cavalry was on the way. Uncle Bob told him the fuck off and heroically picked Lil Wayne up and carried him out to his own off-duty vehicle, placing him gently in the back seat and high-tailing it off to the hospital on his own. Any further delay waiting on paramedics would have likely ended with Little

Wayne dying before even making it to the ER, and the doctors barely saved his life. Lil Wayne would not soon forget Uncle Bob. Years later, on stage at the 2018 BET Hip Hop Awards, Lil Wayne, while now a star, accepting his career recognition, I Am Hip Hop Award, told the world about Uncle Bob. He brought me to the hospital. He refused to wait. He kicked in the doors. Say, you got to do whatever you got to do and make sure this child make it.

Not only did he refuse to sit, not only didn't he give me to the doctors and just leave, he stayed and made sure I made it. After his botched suicide attempt, Wayne committed himself to hip-hop. His mom still didn't like it, but she'd rather have him alive and rapping than dead. He'd got the hookup with cash money young, but label boss Birdman knew that such raw talent had to be groomed. Little Wayne had been rapping since he was nine and was signed at 12, but Birdman was in no rush to put him on the mic.

Lil Wayne chomped at the bit, performing verses on command, seeking features, collaborators, anything to get over and out of the streets. There were still guns at home, and that was common sense in his neighborhood, Holly Grove. And when his mom caught him packing a gun to take to school, she stopped fighting him.

You could spend his days of cash money instead of school, and there's no resisting it. Music was school now. Music was life. And Birdman would now fill in the role of father figure, guiding Wayne to perform a featured verse on tracks with several groups within Cash Money. Until together they settled on a winning formula, the hot boys. Lil Wayne, Juvenile Turk and B.G. backed by Cash Money's Secret Sauce, production by Wiz producer Mani Fresh. The bounce-inflicted Southern rap that Hot Boys dropped on their debut album in 1997, Get It How You Live, lived up to Cash Money's rep as New Orleans' escape route.

The record was a regional smash and charted nationally at 22 on the Billboard RB hip-hop chart. For the first time, 14-year-old little Wayne could see light at the end of the tunnel. Except as a minor, Wayne's deal with cash money was a deal with his mom, too. She had to co-sign his contracts and controlled his finances. So even with his advance and features under his belt, he was still on the corners hustling weed, cocaine, and crack for spending money long after he'd signed. The streets had a gravity to them.

They rooted Little Wayne's fearlessness, and the violence all around him made him hungry. He made himself a promise. He'd know he got out for real. We could buy his mom a house. Wayne gripped his forearm, picked at his elbow with frayed nerves. He swayed back and forth, and the hot lights beat down on him from above.

He was backstage, leaning first to one side then the other, slick with sweat from just performing Swagger Like Us with Ti, J-Z, Kanye, and MIA. But now they were reading off his category. It all came down. February 8, 2009, the 51st Grammy Awards. Bill Wayne had bought his mom a house long ago. Cash money had fulfilled its promise and his strategy of always being available for that next feature and paid off. By the time of his first solo album,

when the block is hot in 99, anticipation had built and the debut went platinum. His series of albums titled The Carter, beginning in 2004, had each blown up bigger than the last, and he was now Cash Money's signature artist with all the club that came with it. Tonight was his coronation. The Carter 3 was nominated for six Grammys. It was a force of nature, just like Lou Wayne. It had debuted at number one on the Billboard 200, sold a million copies in its first week of release, closed out the year on its way to being certified triple platinum

and produced four singles including a Millie and Lollipop, which had already won Best Rap solo performance and Best Rap song on this evening. Will I.M. and T. Payne were presenting Best Rap album. Little Wayne was up against Jay-Z, Nas Ti, Moupee Fiasco, a murderer's row of 2009 MCs. Wayne was only a few years from surpassing Elvis Presley as the male artist with the most entries on the Billboard Hot 100. But in 2009, winning best rap album would be the crown jewel.

T. Payne read his name, and Wayne ran up on the stage, jumped in the air, and knocked his heels together. His friends, family, and collaborators flooded the stage. It was his ultimate triumph. So far. But it was bittersweet. After so many years on the come-up, Wayne thought he had finally escaped the specter of street trouble. But beyond the glamour of Grammy Night, Wayne knew what was coming for him next. Sentencing.

We'll be right back after this word, word, word. There's two golden rules that any man should live by. Rule one, never mess with a country girl. You play stupid games, you get stupid prizes. And rule two, never mess with her friends either. We always say that trust your girlfriends. I'm Anna Sinfield, and in this new season of the girlfriends, Oh my God, this is the same man.

A group of women discover they've all dated. the same prolific con artist. I felt like I got hit by a truck. I thought, how could this happen to me? The cops didn't seem to care. So they take matters into their own hands. I said, oh, hell no. I vowed.

I will be his last target. He's going to get what he deserves. Listen to the girlfriends. Trust me, babe. On the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcast. Your husband is not who you think he is. Your body is not what you.

you thought it was. Your identity is formed by a secret history. I'm Danny Shapiro, and these are just a few of the stunning stories I'll be exploring on the 14th season of Family Secrets. And just then, we felt the plain turn in the air, so much so that the bags that were under people's seats just kind of flew into the aisle. Each week, we dive head first into the complex power of secrecy, how it shapes our identities and relationships, and how it ultimately can reveal to us our truest selves. My daughter, she's pretending she doesn't know, but is trying to cook and feed me and keep me alive

because I wasn't eating anything. And me pretending like everything was fine. He kind of shoved me out of the way and said, move. And he went out of the front door and he jumped in a car and drove off. And that was the last time I saw him. Listen to season 14 of Family Secrets, starting May 7th, on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. This season on Dear Chelsea with me,

Chelsea Handler, we have some fantastic guests like Amelia Clark. When like young people come up to me and they want to be an actor or whatever, my first thing is always, can you think of anything else that you can do? Rather be disappointed in. Do that. Dennis Leary. I wake up and I'm hitting him in the head with a water bomb. And Bruce Jenner is on the aisle in a karate stance like he's about to attack me.

Like making karate noises. And his entire the Kardashian family over there, everybody's going, and the air marshal is trying to grab my arms and screaming. And I immediately know that I've been asleep walking. David O'Yellowo. I love this podcast, whether it's therapy or relationships or religion or sex or addiction or you just go straight for the guts. Guy Branham. So anyway, Nicole Kimman broke up with Keith Thurban.

Being half of a country couple was always a hat she was going to weigh. not like a life she was going to lead. Oh, interesting. I like that. Did you practice that on your way over? Gaten Madarazzo from Stranger Things. Tana Monsu. Camilla Marone, Carrie Kenny Silver, and more.

Listen to these episodes of Dear Chelsea on the Iheart Radio app, Apple Podcast, or wherever you get your podcasts. Dave Roberts, Sox Pinch Runner, stole second. They were down by one. Bottom of the ninth. The Yankees were up three games, To none, winning would humiliate the Red Sox and send the Yankees to the World Series.

The tension couldn't have been higher. Bill Miller was at the plate. Riviera made his pitch. The ball shot off the bat up the middle. Roberts tore ass toward the plate. The throw from Bernie Williams. Again, late. And the Red Sox tied the game.

Playing for a tie wasn't the Red Sox end game and neither was at Little Wains. His mindset was to win. To overcome whatever obstacle. is presented themselves, staying alive in the murderous hometown, the murder of his stepfather, surviving a gunshot to the chest and becoming one of the biggest selling hip-hop stars on the planet, except Lil Wayne was being taken out of the game. He sat in the dentist's chair. Root canals were supposed to be scarier than they actually were, but not today. This hurt, like a motherfucker. It wasn't just one root canal. It was eight. In one sitting, eight root canals in an

eight-hour sitting to repair his tooth implants and to repair his real teeth that for the last few years have been capped to gold and diamonds. 150 grand worth of grill had to go. A hundred and fifty thousand dollars worth of diamonds and gold sparkling in his mouth wasn't going to cut it in Rikers Island prison. And there weren't any official rulings on the books about dental implants in prison, but possession of jewelry was regulated in order to avoid the sticky situation of using it to barter for contraband or sex. Riker's inmates were restricted to only wearing watches that were valued at less than $50, and wedding rings valued at no more than $150.

Religious necklaces were allowed again, but nothing cost you more than $50, so if you wanted to look like a wannabe wise guy, you were all set, but if you wanted to rock a grill, you were as good as a marked man. So Lil Wayne had to lose the grill, so much so that his prison sentence was postponed in order to accommodate the trip to the dentist. Prison, which is where he was headed. The weapons charge, at least in the eyes of the court, was legit. Even though Lil Wayne and most everyone else knew it was bullshit.

Twelve months, a full year for having a gun, a gun that wasn't even on him, that was quote-unquote in his possession? And by possession, they meant on his tour bus in the general proximity of him, but not on his body. A year for that? The sentence seemed entirely fucked up, even though Little Wayne had another pending charge. This one in Arizona, after police dogs had sniffed out weed, ecstasy, cocaine, guns, and 20 grand in cash in his tour bus in 2008. But that was a separate case, which would whittle down to three years parole and no jail time, so he shouldn't have mattered.

Little Wayne knew what was up. He was headed to Rikers because the judge, the cops, whoever, they had headlines to grab. And that's what the hassle was about on that night. Headlines. It wasn't about some trumped-up gun charge. It was about Lil Wayne, a New Orleans rapper in New York City, headlining a concert venue for the first time while beefing with New York's top MC, Jay-Z. The two men with the surname of Carter had a long history of respect and beef.

Lil Wayne rapped that he was the best rapper alive since the best rapper retired on 2004's Bring It Back. As for the current beef, most of it seemed to stem from, out-of-context quotes in hip-hop mags in friendly competition. July 22nd, 2007, New York City's Beacon Theater, Lil Wayne at the top of the bill, and the city's hip-hop community turned up. Kanye was on his way, Calud was in the house,

Jules Santana and Jarl Ruh were having a hard time getting in. Irv Gotti was pissed, and police were everywhere. Out front on Broadway mounted on horses, inside the doors monitoring the metal detector post, roaming playing clothes cops pushing through the packed crowd, clocking for indiscriminate bulges and waistlines, and at the backstage door patting down the headliner,

harassing Lou Wayne on his way into the venue to perform his set. When asked about the show later, DJ Khalid said he felt like he was going into a prison. Lil Wayne shared the ill sentiment. When he first hit the stage, the harassment and overbearing police presence was hard to shake off. He told his rabid audience, they quote, I just went through the worst fucking feeling ever with y'all police. On stage, he looked defeated, disappointed, disgusted. He then leaned into it.

And this may be one of the only times you see me because of how they treated me. Wayne put it behind him, though, and soldiered on. Kanye hit the stage with him and the place lost that shit. Cal and Santana and Jarl Ruel also hit the stage for cameos. In the end, the show went off great. When the performances were on fire and the audience was ecstatic, Lil Wayne had arrived in New York. But now it was time to bounce.

Lights on, hit the bus, hit the hotel, party, split. Except that didn't happen. Little Wayne and his entourage were detained before going anywhere. Almost as soon as the tour bus rolled out, it was pulled over by New York's finest. The cops claimed that they smelled marijuana, which of course was entirely possible. When the cops got on the bus,

they went straight for Wayne who was in the back, and nothing but his boxer shorts amid change. The cops claimed they saw him, a Louis Vuitton bag under one of the bunks. In it, a 40-caliber handgun. Little Wayne argued that it wasn't his. Didn't matter. He was hauled in and charged with the possession of an illegal firearm. In New York, a Class D violent felony. The gun wasn't his and it was registered, just not to him, to his manager and not in New York and Mississippi. But New York prosecutors weren't playing. They went Adam hard, seeking the maximum penalty. And Lil Wayne's lawyers knew better than to tempt what at the

time was the city's rigid justice system. They prevailed upon Little Wayne to take a plea. He did, admitting that the gun, though not in his possession, was within his quote-unquote dominion or control, meaning I guess that if he wanted to pick up a gun that was registered and shoot it off, he had the ability to do so, which makes sense somewhat, but in my mind doesn't justify a year-long prison sentence. But it didn't matter. Little Wayne, one of the most famous and successful rappers on the planet at the time, was heading off to Rikers Island Prison for a reason. year, and there was nothing that he or his dentist or anyone else could do about it. The 12th. Heart of the Order. And the temperature continued to fall in Boston as fans' heart rates

rose into the bottom of the 12th. A 4-4 game, a 2-1 pitch. Mady Ramirez got it going with a hit. The Red Sox had their lead-off man on. David Ortiz was now at the plate. One-on. No-outs. 4-4 tie. A Yankee win and they go to the World Series. A Red Sox win and they avoid a the sweep. The pitch to Big Papi. David Ortiz took it deep into right field. Sheffield went back, but Home run, the Red Sox, won. Overcame certain defeat and lived to fight another day.

That's all Little Wayne wanted. To live to fight another day. He'd done it before. He'd do it again. Prison was hard, boring as fuck, but Little Wayne was doing his time, riding out his one-year sentence, hoping for time off for good behavior. Real jail was no joke, but it wasn't all bad.

There were little things to help make it a little easier. The old dude across the hall looked out for him. We get him extra sugar for his coffee every morning. And he had an MP3 player. He could mess with that, mess with music, keep his head occupied. And there was a radio he could sometimes listen to ESPN and occasionally catch a game from his beloved Red Sox. He could be social if you wanted.

He ended up officiating a wedding for two fellow inmates. and they decorated the cell with streamers made from toilet paper, drank gatorade in celebration. And of course, there were visitors. Kanye Diddy and Lil Wayne's protege at Drake. Little Wayne had signed Drake to Young Money Entertainment back in 2009. He knew Drake was a star, and on his hunch, now the world knew it too. So did Little Wayne's girlfriend, which was the problem. It was why Drake was visiting his mentor behind bars to tell him in person what Wayne already knew,

but the rumors claimed that yes, he, Drake, was sleeping with Lil Wade's girl. It stung, but Wayne would have to overcome worse. He was now in solitary, forced to do his remaining month by himself for possession of a legal contraband, the MP3 player. Solitary was brutal, too much time alone. Little Wayne lived in the moment, always, one minute to the next. He relied on instinct. The universe had a plan.

God had a plan. If there was a roadmap, he'd never see. it. But alone, hold up in the darkness, there were visions. Violent visions. A bus barreling onto an Atlanta highway through a spray of gunfire. Bullets flying everywhere, screaming, crying, screeching tires, fear everywhere, but not in the low wind's heart. It beat steady, true. Rampant bullets weren't anything he couldn't overcome. And the bus would come to a stop, and so too would the shooting and he'd be fine. Better than before. Stronger. Smarter. smart enough to sniff out a snake in his midst, a vision of a slithering money-grubbing reptile

working his way through Little Wayne's house on the outside, a mentor, a father figure, a traitor in his midst, stealing right out from under his nose, millions gone in a record label advance embezzlement, the running of Little Wayne's hard-earned cash. After Lil Wayne built cash money records, it couldn't be. It was too far-fetched a vision. Say it ain't so. Time would tell time. Time was all that mattered, doing the time, not letting it do you, overcoming, enduring. Baseball is an endurance sport. 162 games in a season played over six months, longer if you make the playoffs.

It's a grueling stretch. It's rare, if near impossible, for a player to go an entire season without some sort of injury. Some play through the pain, but most don't. The great ones, of course, do. There's a rhythm to a baseball season. It starts out easy, Languid almost, picks up steam, dips into a respite in July, comes back furious in the late

summer months, and speeds into the fall postseason on fumes. There are nine innings per game in baseball, and unlike any other sport, there is no clock. You play until you finish, until someone comes out on top, no matter the time, no matter the number of extra innings. Unlike in other sports, there is more at stake for quitters. Arguably, you've invested too much of your time and effort to get to this point in the game to give up. October 17th, 2004, the Boston Red Sox, the Lowell Wayne's team, was five hours plus into an extra innings winner-go-home game against the vaunted New York Yankees, a team that had the Sox number for the better part of a century. Mid-October, almost a full three extra weeks of postseason playing time on top of the extra innings. They were tired, down three games to none. The world had counted them out.

Even their fans had counted them out. If they tell you otherwise, they're lines. Losing was expected at this point. For the players, giving up, losing at that late point in the game would have gone unnoticed. It would have been the easy thing to do. But the Red Sox clawed, scraped, and fought their way back, tying the game in the ninth and eventually winning it on a David Ortiz walk-off home run in the 12th. There was no giving up because giving up meant giving up too much. Too much time.

Too much invested energy. It wasn't just a game. It wasn't just a season. It wasn't even the romanticized overcoming of some silly non-notice. It was pride, a sense of self, of one's place in the world at the top, overcoming the odds, a world-beater. It was the inherent will to not give up, to overcome. Lil Wayne had that same will.

It would have been easy to fall into bad habits in prison to get high, fuck off, fight, whatever. There were numerous ways for Lil Wayne to have taken his eye off the ball to extend to stay at Rikers, but that wasn't going to happen. He was neither above the law nor under the influence. He had exerted so much effort, so much of himself into his career by that point. Even if he was in prison, there was too much at stake. He'd been rapping since he was nine and rapping for cash money since he was 12. He'd been famous his entire adult life and for part of his childhood.

He'd won four Grammys, released multiple platinum albums, escaped Hollygrove to tour the world. There was too much on the line now. He had too many people counting on him. Everyone at Young Money Entertainment, the label he had founded a few years earlier, his family, his four children, their four different mothers, all relied on him. So there was nothing he was going to do to send him back. And there was nobody or nothing that he was going to let keep him down this deep into the game.

Not the vicious murder of a father figure. Not his father abandoning him. Not a third father figure's betrayal or the betrayal of a protege. Not even a gunshot wound to the chest or eight months in Rikers and especially not a month in solitary confinement at the end of his stint. None of it was going to do Little Wayne in. On November 4, 2010, Little Wayne walked out of prison and into the rest of his life. Once again, a free man.

Because giving in, giving up, it wasn't in him. For Little Wayne, it would have been nothing short of disgraceful. I'm Jake Brennan, and this is disgraceful. All right. reported in late January of 2021 after the writing and recording of this episode that Lil Wayne was granted a pardon by then President Donald J. Trump for a felony gun charge, a different felony gun charge than the one depicted in this episode, a felony gun charge springing from an arrest in late 2019, a felony gun charge that very likely would have landed Lil Wayne a convicted felon

in prison again, but this time for up to 10 years. It was also reported that after his arrest and Before the 2020 presidential election, Lil Wayne, ever the self-preservationists and not one to give up, was able to arrange a meeting with the then president at his golf course in Miami. By all accounts, the president was charmed by the Megawatt rap star. And so, the rap star was pardoned and therefore, once again, free to be Lil Wayne. Discrace Land was created by yours truly and is produced in partnership with Double Elvis. Credits for this episode can be found on the show notes page at Disgraceland, If you're listening as a disgrace land all-access member, thank you for supporting the show.

We really appreciate it. And if not, you can become a member right now by going to disgracelandpod.com slash membership. Members can listen to every episode of disgrace land ad free. Plus, you'll get one brand new exclusive episode every month. Weekly unscripted bonus episodes, special audio collections, and early access to merchandise and events. Visit disgracelandpod.com slash membership. for details.

Rate and review the show and follow us on Instagram, TikTok, Twitter, and Facebook at Disgracelandpod and on YouTube at YouTube.com slash at disgraceland pod. Rockerola.

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