Old-school hog farming makes a comeback, thanks to some fine swine from Frankenstein.
Transgender hookers with rap sheets are successfully fighting deportation--by asking for asylum.
First, Houston's DNA lab became a laughingstock. Then its controversial director was murdered.
The attitude informs III, making it a departure from the tossed-off, improvised mixtapes he's been releasing since Tha Carter II came out in 2005. What makes III superior is the fact that he was forced to do some editing. Instead of relying on beats from songs that were already chart hits, the 16 tracks on the album are tailored to his flow. The songs alternate between first-rate club-and-trance rap ("Lollipop," "Mr. Carter," "A Milli"), mid- to low-tempo ballads that allow him to crack jokes ("Comfortable," "Tie My Hands," "Let the Beat Build"), and guitar jams that bring real drama. The album's highlight falls into the latter category, the Rolling Stones-cribbing "Playing With Fire," which recalls a battle with his mother's abusive husband and encourages those who hate Wayne to assassinate him like Martin Luther King Jr. Even seeming throwaways like "Mrs. Officer," about a raunchy affair with a cop, is given heft and humor via Bobby Valentino's sung hook, which sounds like a police siren.
Much of Wayne's charm is that no one knows what's going to come out of his mouth next — not even he. Because he has finally mastered the art of knowing when to let himself go and when to reel himself in, III is a cohesive, fulfilling work.
"Are there any tracks you're surprised turned out as well as they did?" I ask.
"Um, no, all of them are exactly what I expected," he says. "I put my all into them, and I expect to get all out of them."
Believe it or not, Wayne is actually a perfectionist. He's got a remarkable ability to stay on message even after his third or fourth glass of syrup. Rest assured, despite making no effort to dissuade you of the notion that he's completely unhinged, Wayne knows exactly what he's doing.