These darling, cute, little lumps of brown sugar (Nya and Nia, calling themselves Watoto from the Nile) have put together this enterprising clip with snappy lyrics that they've supposedly written. Sure, it's cute, albeit incredibly uncomfortable. While the idea of barely-decade-old children creating art of this caliber and variety is not far-fetched, something about this whole thing just feels contrived.
The lyrics include lines like, "My daddy told me I'm a queen/But you call women other things." This is true, honey. You are a little queen, and if you keep on listening to your daddy, it's likely you'll remain so regal. If you listen to Weezy, though, you might as well size those clear heels now and invest in hand-held pole sanitizer, because we already know what's next.
Come on! This shit is not rocket science. Wayne is popular, not because he makes music for the children. He makes music for the people who like catchy lyrics and expensive production that make said lyrics appear more clever -- similar to beer goggles, but different. There are questionable lyrics in every single song that exists.
What's even more mind-boggling about this is in one of the last lines, one of the girls says something to the effect of: "I hope that we can work together to uplift the people." This is a good idea, except, it's not. It's annoying that we have this idea that Lil Wayne is not supposed to talk about drugs and hoes and money when that's all we've ever gotten from him. You know, that whole blood-from-a-turnip thing?
Jermaine Dupri once said, as a throw to his opulent lifestyle, "I can barely raise my wrist, how the hell can I raise your kids?"
Don't blame Weezy, blame BET. And listen to your parents.