Dwayne Michael Carter Jr. was born September 27, 1982, in New Orleans and signed to Cash Money Records around age eleven, becoming the youngest member of the label's teenage rap group the Hot Boys. He outgrew the group by his early twenties: after learning Jay-Z had stopped writing lyrics, Wayne abandoned his own notebook, recording 2002's "10,000 Bars" as the last verse he ever wrote down, then flooding mixtapes with freestyled verses at a pace no rival matched. Cash Money's Bryan "Birdman" Williams later called him the label's foundation across three eras — Hot Boy, solo superstar, then Young Money label head. By 2008, Tha Carter III moved over a million copies in its first week. Wayne has never hidden his sources, ranking Missy Elliott, Jay-Z, and UGK among the rappers he studied hardest — proof that finding a favorite artist means starting to sound like them.
On DJ Khaled's podcast in 2020, Wayne named the rapper who taught him to treat his own voice like a sound effect: "Missy Elliott — that was my favorite rapper because that would be why I was making so many sounds. Missy was into the whole 'Brrrrt' [sound]... and so the 'Block Burner' song was my best favorite song." Producer Mannie Fresh pushed him to layer a yelp or holler into nearly every line, and two years later Wayne named her first on his all-time top five: "It's always going to be first, Missy Elliott."
listen forMissy Elliott's 1997 debut single "The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly)" treats her own voice as an instrument — Timbaland stutters and warps her ad-libs until they function as percussion, not commentary. On "Block Burner," recorded that same year, Wayne and the Hot Boys chase the same idea on a rawer budget: listen for the yelped "ha" bursts Mannie Fresh drops between bars, filling space the way Missy's vocal effects fill hers.
Sometime in the mid-2000s, with Wayne loudly declaring himself the best rapper alive right as Jay-Z announced his retirement, Birdman pulled him aside: "I'm tired of every song you doing sounding like damn Jay-Z. You're not Jay-Z." Wayne wasn't embarrassed — "Yeah, I was glad it was working," he told Rolling Stone. The imitation went deeper than punchlines: hearing that Jay-Z had quit writing lyrics stopped Wayne cold. "I heard that n***a Jay-Z don't write no more," he recalled on The Pivot Podcast, and after recording 2002's "10,000 Bars," he never rapped from paper again.
listen forIn 2003, Jay-Z rode Timbaland's stripped, stop-start beat on "Dirt Off Your Shoulder" with unhurried, fully composed couplets. A year later, on his mixtape The Prefix, Wayne rapped a freestyle over that same instrumental — listen for the looser seams: half-finished lines, grunted ad-libs, and a cadence that drifts off the beat and catches back up, the sound of a rapper working without a page in front of him.
"Weezy F. Baby and his Hot Boys cohorts were heavily influenced by UGK," the Houston Press wrote. "That thing where he accentuates his syllables? A guy by the name of Chad Butler was doing that while Wayne was still in Underoos." Butler — Pimp C — had spent years insisting his and Bun B's slow-rolling, gospel-inflected drawl was its own category, rapping on 1999's "Belts to Match": "We makin' country rap tunes." Wayne, coming up in Cash Money's New Orleans, absorbed both the stretched syllables and the regional defiance, later naming UGK in his own top five.
listen forUGK's 1996 "Murder" rides on Pimp C's molasses-paced verse, each syllable stretched and leaned on like a held note. A decade later, Wayne built "No Other," with Juelz Santana, from a sample pulled out of that same track — listen for how his cadence still drags behind the beat the way Pimp C's did, borrowing the elongated vowels even as the productions sit eras apart.