WTF IS A WALE?

Dear Wale,

          I must admit when we were first introduced a year or so ago, we got off on the wrong foot....first impressions are a bitch and the one I got from you led me to a few premature conclusions. I'd like to explain my past actions and the misdirected hatred I've aimed toward you for the past year and a half. This shit all started when some random straggler loitering in the parking lot of my previous job, heard me bumpin' some of Jigga's more classic shit (Reasonable Doubt) and sparked up a convo about hip-hop.

 As usual, the mutual appreciation of hip hops golden era, led to the typical, all too cliche debates over the top 5 dead or alive and then moved on to the even more worn ass talks of the "hottest" now....from there came the thorn in every hip-hop debaters ass. "What new cats you bumping?" At this point and time, my response was a shoulder shrug, followed by every current generation haters mantra "I don't fuck with too many of these new niggaz". He then asked whether I was up on Wale and my reply was..."What the fuck is a Wale?" Astonished at my ignorance, he proceeded to hand me three different Wale tapes and told me they were mines to keep.

     Everything I was told about this "Wale"character was so incredibly positive, that my excitement to hear a new generation rapper actually go hard, was boiling over. I took these records home and immediately popped in the discs. I skimmed for what felt like an eternity thru what I described as microwaved trash...hot garbage...booty chatter...toilet tunes, ect. My response to these mixtapes were immediate and exacting, I actually threw the records onto a pile of other bullshit I had received in promo bags and regretted ever touching, to be forgotten and collect dust. All I remember was gritting my teeth to his mumbling rant of a flow and clenching my chest in agony as I sat listening to a mash-up of Seinfield samples and Go-Go inspired drums. All I could think to myself was "who the fuck asked for this?" Me and Wale were officially enemies.

        After a little over a year so, of sitting down and cursing under my breath at the DJ whenever "Chilling" or "Nike Boots" came on. My hatred subsided...his record had not sold well and what little video rotation he did have, slowed to a fucking snails pace. My nemesis was out of sight and definitely out of mind. I was on to my next overrated nigga to hate on.
        But just a month ago, my Wale slurs were back on deck, when I logged on to twitter and saw his new "More About Nothing" mixtape was a trending topic. I was confronted with more of these Wale loving assholes praising his shit like he was the love child of Jay-Z and Coltrane....all the while using adjectives that I couldn't bring myself to use on the likes of Wale....words like "enlightening" "thought provoking" "the illest" and "underrated" came up more than once. I had vowed that I would never partake in the shenanigans ever again after our first meeting, but I had to admit that my curiosity was peaked once again. It wasn't because I gave two shits about Wale, but because I had that "I must have missed the joke" feeling. The feeling that you are the last to latch onto a necessary thought or movement...the feeling that makes you "out of the loop" or just a "close minded asshole". Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, my roommate who appeared to have been caught in the Wype (Wale+Hype=Wype), brought a copy home and insisted on playing this horse hockey for the world to see! I gritted my teeth once again and squirmed in preparation for the torture that was to come...but something was different this time. As track #2 "The MC" blared thru the surround sound, I was still pissed at the thought of being forced to listen to Wale in my own home, but I found myself bobbing my head. By the time it got to "The Numbers Won", I was mind fucked...I was grabbing my nuts and putting my fist over my mouth after every dope bar...and to my surprise, there were plenty.
         The man I had spent a year and a half content on hating had crafted some of the most magnificent shit I'd heard all year. This was a 360...a guy I had declared, one of the most overrated niggaz to ever touch a mic, was looking like Zeus on Mt.Olympus in comparison to the mass majority of his peers. His range of topics were diverse, his flow far crisper than the Wale I had met the first time, and thank God, no fucking go go drums. This version, I was forced to listen to, actually had songs that evoked emotion and required some thought. He had become everything I looked for in an MC. Songs like "the war" and "the eyes of the tiger" embodied greatness, every word was poignant and perfectly delivered. These "aha" moments are what led me to pen this letter.
          As a man, when you fuck up,(which I've done so many times before) no matter how big the fuck up is, you have to come back and clarify yourself....in other words, real men apologize! As a man, from the bottom of my dark, "new nigga hating" heart, I'd like to apologize Wale....sorry. Although this is not to say "I'm sorry" for my judgements of some of your previous work (cause I stand by those), this IS to apologize for not seeing the potential hidden underneath the D.C packaging. I'm sorry for ever doubting you Wale,

From your boy over at NASAGANG,

St. Kastro