Lil Wayne’s Tha Carter VI: Flickers of Greatness, Doesn’t Stick the Landing

Article by Malik Perkins
Jun 12th, 2025

Lil Wayne’s Tha Carter series is more than a run of albums—it’s a cornerstone of modern rap. With the recent release of Tha Carter VI, Wayne returns with glimpses of his former glory. His lyrical sharpness is still intact, and he delivers standout verses that remind listeners why he's one of the most influential rappers of all time. But despite those flashes, the project stumbles over its feet with inconsistent production, unfocused direction, and a bloated runtime.

What Tha Carter VI makes clear is that Wayne’s pen—or more accurately, his mind—is still one of rap’s most dangerous weapons. Like Biggie and Jay-Z before him, Wayne is part of a rare breed of artists who don’t write their rhymes down, nor rely on the more recent trend of “punching in”—recording one bar at a time.. Instead, he constructs full verses, often entire songs, in his head before ever stepping into the booth. That technique lends his delivery a fluid, freeform feel that sounds improvised but is razor sharp underneath.

On Banned from N.O., one of the album’s strongest tracks, he raps with purpose and presence:
“Come to your hood, OT with Tim Westwood / Used to be on Section 8, now my section is good.”
It’s classic Wayne—streetwise, defiant, and full of bite.

The track Bells attempts to bridge eras, paying homage to LL Cool J’s Rock the Bells with clanging drums and throwback energy. Wayne delivers one of the album’s more vivid verses here:
“I been under them trees like Feliz Navidad / Twin Glocks under the seat, that's Maria, Maria / Leave your body lookin' like if you're feedin' hyenas.”
The imagery is grim and cartoonishly wild, true to Wayne’s style. But while the bars land, the track never quite captures the energy of the original it references. The homage is respectful, but it doesn’t elevate the moment into something remarkable.

Ironically, the most focused track on the album comes at the very end. On Written History, Wayne drops the bravado and embraces reflection, spitting:
“Huh, you are now locked in with the greatest, n*gga
I treat the booth like a boxing ring in Vegas, n*gga
I speak the truth, my philosophy is greater, n*gga
Don't eat the fruit without acknowledging the labor, n*gga.”
It’s raw, clear, and powerful—an honest meditation on legacy, creativity, and earned wisdom. It also shows that when paired with the right beat and theme, Wayne can still command a moment.

But Tha Carter VI isn’t all precision. The project is weighed down by scattershot production and tonal shifts that feel unearned. Tracks like Island Holiday and Peanuts 2 N Elephant derail the album’s momentum with off-kilter production and undercooked ideas. The sequencing makes the album feel more like a playlist of drafts than a cohesive statement from a seasoned artist.

There’s no question that Wayne still has the lyrical talent to stand alongside any rapper, past or present. His ability to write entire songs in his head and still deliver sharp, complex bars is a dying art. But Tha Carter VI doesn’t provide those skills the platform they deserve. The production often feels mismatched or unfinished, and the album’s loose structure leaves its best moments feeling isolated rather than elevated.

Wayne fans will find gems here—especially in tracks like Banned from N.O., Bells, and Written History. But as a full project, Tha Carter VI feels more like a collection of moments than a triumphant return. It’s a reminder of Wayne’s greatness, but not the definitive chapter it could have been.

Final Grade: C