Dearest Lil’ Wayne,

Let me start this letter by saying that I, Jasmine Sachar, am your biggest fan. I have every eloquent lyric of yours memorized. I have perfected your devilish, hostile stare and even am considering getting a gold grill and dreds.

I saw you all over the national news a few months ago. A group of little girls wrote a song all about how your lyrics are demeaning to women, entitled “Letter to Lil’ Wayne.” “My daddy tells me I’m a queen/but you call women other things,” they chant in annoying, off-tune voices.

Don’t listen to them, Weezy. You don’t have to take that. You’re a mega-millionaire with tattoos all over your body. Hey, if it’s profitable, why not talk about women like they’re worthless sex objects?

Your lyrics speak to me. Your charisma in this industry is refreshing and invigorating. Teenagers just gravitate towards your music, and they revere you like a hero. Your songs are being blasted in the football locker room before games, and being played during sweaty, hormone-infested high school dances. I mean, let’s just look at all the valuable lessons you’re teaching the youth of today:

1) A woman’s worth depends on her willingness to have sex with you.

2) The only synonym for a woman is b****.

3) “No” really means “keep trying until you get some.”

Just watched one of your recent music videos, “6 foot 7 foot” filled with women in lingerie shaking their behinds, puckering their lips and staring seductively at the camera. It was a truly refined piece of artwork. Bravo, Weezy, bravo.

Your music saved me. Before I knew your rhymes, you could say I was a crazy feminist who believed in respectful treatment of women. What a drag, right? After truly hearing your message, I realized I was gravely mistaken.

I used to want to be a doctor. I used to want to be President of the United States, negotiating diplomatic deals left and right, solving global trade issues, and finally brokering peace between Israel and Palestine. Now your lyrics made me realize I was placing too much worth on myself, I just want to be a stripper now, and wear sleazy, objectifying outfits while the men of the world throw money at me.

So let the critics do their hatin’. They don’t understand you, nor do they fully grasp the complexity of the job you play as a role model for young adults. You deserve to be glorified and worshipped by all teenagers. Your list of accomplishments is astounding. You dropped out of high school at 14, shot yourself in the foot, were arrested on multiple occasions due to drug possession and illegal possession of guns. Now you preach the values of drinking, drugs and self-destruction, all with a gold smile on your face.

How do you do it all, Weezy? And most importantly, what would this generation do without you?

Sincerely,

Jasmine Sachar (J-Swag)