An appropriately titled album, Tha Carter II builds on the Lil Wayne of the first Carter, the Lil Wayne who was not only cocky, but also truly confident, confident enough to loosen up his rhymes and create a winning mixture of slick baller posturing and slippery flippancy. If the first Carter found him somewhere between a crazed Silkk the Shocker and a thuggish Devin the Dude, the excellent follow-up finds him more toward the latter. Take "Money on My Mind," a track that covers the usual "get money" territory but this time with scatological whimsy and off-the-wall rhymes that would make Tracy Morgan proud. This uninhibited style is also the reason the many hookless, freestyle-ish tracks work, and while these hardcore, mixtape-sounding numbers may alienate those who don't appreciate dirty street music, they balance the slicker club singles. Recalling the gutter hits of the Hot Boys -- the crew where Lil Wayne spent his teen years -- the stomping "Fireman" was rightfully lighting up the request lines at the album's release, but the rest of the radio-worthy polish -- "Grown Man," "Hustler Music," and "Get Over" -- is much more soulful, with smooth R&B in its heart rather than tacked-on to land it on the play list. For longtime fans of Lil Wayne or the Cash Money label, the absence of regular producer Mannie Fresh is worth noting, but the Heatmakerz along with Tmix & Batman offer plenty of brilliant grime and glitter while two newcomers deliver the curveballs. Producer Yonny loops a reggae bounce and makes the smoking song "Mo Fire" drip out of the speakers like the dankest sticky-icky while Thicke -- as in Alan Thicke's son -- reprises his slinkiest number from his overlooked 2003 album Beautiful World for "Shooter," arguably the most adventurous and stylish Lil Wayne song yet. Lyrical triumphs like the epic "Tha Mobb" and the pimp-hand-showing "Receipt" seal the deal, leaving only the short, ignorable skits and the black-on-red printing in the liner notes to complain about (the latter is hell on the eyeballs). The sturdy Carter II caps off a year when the man was appointed president of Cash Money by founders Birdman and Ronald "Slim" Williams, then watched his 17th Ward, New Orleans, neighborhood destroyed by hurricane Katrina -- something bitterly touched upon during "Feel Me"'s FEMA dis, but most likely too late for press time for most tracks. The well-rounded, risk-taking, but true-to-its-roots album suggests he can weather the highs and lows like a champion and that Birdman and Slim knew something everyone else didn't when they bet the farm on the formerly "raw talent," now "fully formed" Lil Wayne. ~ David Jeffries, All Music Guide
It would be easy to read too much into the title of Lil Wayne's fourth album, especially in light of a mixtape (cunningly titled The Prefix) that preceded this, which featured the MC over a handful of tracks off Shawn "Jay-Z" Carter's Black Album. The title actually refers to Lil Wayne's actual last name (hint: it isn't Wayne), in addition to referencing the apartments run by Wesley Snipes' character in New Jack City. Although much has been made about Wayne's growth and new world view, there's about as much change as you'd expect from a Southern rap star who has been in the public eye from his late teens to his twenties. Mannie Fresh's stout production is in effect as ever, and to the MC's credit, the rhymes are less measured and are all the better for it. To beat that dead horse one more time, the album is far too long and not concerned enough with the quality control, despite including more than enough bright spots to keep the followers following. At just over 79 minutes in length, it's made evident that the length would actually be just over 89 minutes if a CD could hold 90 minutes' worth of music. ~ Andy Kellman, All Music Guide
Following Big Tymers' Hood Rich on up the charts, Lil Wayne's third album tries to trump the big Cash Money hit by ex-labelmate Juvenile (400 Degreez). With the smooth, laid-back productions of Mannie Fresh leading the way for Wayne's drawling delivery, 500 Degreez does just that. Yes, it's a little top-heavy, but the highlights come quickly, with the leadoff (after the intro) "Look at Me" sporting a freakfest vibe along with Fresh's top-flight beats. The whole album's powered by the infectious party hit "Way of Life," building on the rocksteady rhythm of Eric B. & Rakim's "Paid in Full." Even better is "Gangsta Shit," a synth-heavy roller with Petey Pablo besting even Wayne himself on the mic. ~ John Bush, All Music Guide
Lil Wayne may still be a youngster on his second album, Lights Out, but he shows substantial growth, dropping serious lyrics over some of Mannie Fresh's wildest production to date. More than anything, the serious tone and the wild beats come as somewhat of a surprise. Up until this point, the Cash Money camp had churned out a staggering number of releases during the late '90s. These releases were anything but serious or wild, instead prototypically Dirty South with their big, bass-heavy bounce beats and brash, bling-bling boastful banter. Lights Out retains plenty of this but is notably ambitious. Wayne is out to prove himself as more than a teen phenomenon, showcasing a socially conscious side largely absent on his debut, and Fresh is out to prove himself as a versatile producer, crafting a sonically adventurous sound denser than his past work. This ambition is somewhat fascinating, particularly for anyone who has followed Cash Money's evolution to here; however, it's also a bit overreaching. Wayne is deep on heartfelt songs like "Everything" and "Grown Man," and he is street-smart on insightful songs like "Lil One" and "Get off the Corner." He's much more effective, though, when he lightens up his lyrics and has fun, as on "Shine," "Let's Go," and "Hit U Up," three album highlights. Similarly, Mannie Fresh misfires here and there on Lights Out, like on the oddly bluesy "Fuck Wit Me Now" but, for the most part, has never been more creative. His stuttering beats on "Tha Blues" are breathtaking, as are the Eastern-style ones on "Hit U Up," and the album-opener, "Get off the Corner," sounds absolutely massive. The only problem with all of these is that you have to find them among the whopping 19 songs on Lights Out, making it somewhat of a frustrating album despite its several highlights. ~ Jason Birchmeier, All Music Guide