The announcement came like thunder: Kendrick Lamar would headline the 2025 Super Bowl halftime show.

For many, this was a no-brainer.

Kendrick is in his prime, riding a wave of critical acclaim and commercial dominance.

But for others—especially those from New Orleans—it felt like a betrayal.

A cold dismissal of the man many believe built hip-hop’s Southern empire: Lil Wayne.

The backlash was instant and cutting.

Nicki Minaj, without ever saying a name, threw grenades on Twitter—calling someone “spiteful,” “evil,” and finally… “ugly.

” No one needed a decoder ring.

Her target was clear: Jay-Z.

Within hours, Birdman—Wayne’s longtime mentor and co-founder of Cash Money Records—chimed in with his own grievances.

It wasn’t just about the halftime show, they claimed.

It was personal.

To understand the full picture, we need to rewind—not months, not years, but decades.

Back to a time when Jay-Z announced his retirement in 2003 after The Black Album.

At that very moment, another Carter—Dwayne Michael Carter Jr.

, better known as Lil Wayne—was ascending.

Just 17 years old, Wayne was already a platinum-selling artist and a rising icon of Southern hip-hop.

His Tha Carter series would become legendary.

Their paths seemed destined to cross—and collide.

In 2005, Jay-Z tried to sign Lil Wayne to Def Jam.

He even called Birdman personally, out of respect.

But what followed was a legal letter from Cash Money’s lawyers accusing Jay of tortious interference.

Wayne would later say they had disagreements during the negotiation.

Jay, in his own words, said he’d rather “do the right thing and lose,” than betray someone he respected.

But the tone shifted after that.

Respect turned into subliminals.

Admiration into animosity.

Jay-Z began dropping veiled shots.

In “Trouble” from Kingdom Come, he rapped about “little” rappers with “daddy issues,” clearly referencing Wayne and Birdman.

Wayne responded with “I’m the best rapper alive since the best rapper retired,” on Bring It Back.

Then he doubled down with Dough Is What I Got, remixing Jay’s own beat to proclaim himself the LeBron or Kobe of rap.

The beef simmered, flared, and simmered again.

In 2007, they collaborated for the first time on Hello Brooklyn 2.

0, leading fans to believe peace had been brokered.

But the harmony was short-lived.

By 2009, the gloves were off again.

When MTV named Jay-Z the #1 rapper and Wayne #2, Birdman scoffed.

“He ain’t number one in NO kinda way,” Birdman said in a now-infamous interview.

“How can you be the best if you don’t make the most money?”

Jay-Z laughed off the claims, but his sarcasm was icy.

“We’d have to see your bank accounts,” he said.

“I could give y’all a glimpse.”

Then came HAM, the opening single from Jay and Kanye’s Watch the Throne.

In it, Jay fired off another barb: “Really, you got baby money? You ain’t got my lady money.

” That “lady,” of course, was Beyoncé—whose wealth, Jay implied, dwarfed not only Birdman’s, but Wayne’s entire empire.

Wayne’s response? Nuclear.

On It’s Good from Tha Carter IV, he flipped Jay’s line and took a shot so direct, it stunned the industry:

“I got your baby money / Kidnap your b*tch, get that how-much-you-love-your-lady money.”

The tension was now unmistakable.

Still, both parties continued to play it cool in interviews.

Jay said he didn’t view Wayne’s bar as a threat.

Wayne, in turn, admitted he couldn’t box with the “god” of rap but stood by his verse.

The back-and-forth was subtle, surgical, calculated.

These weren’t diss tracks—they were chess moves.

Strategic, dangerous, veiled behind layers of deniability.

And then, just when things seemed to be reaching a boiling point…life got in the way.

Lil Wayne’s fallout with Birdman and Cash Money over his shelved album, Tha Carter V, consumed his focus.

Legal battles, financial stress, and an IRS bill of over $14 million nearly broke him.

And that’s when an unlikely figure came to his aid: Jay-Z.

In 2018, Wayne revealed that Jay had helped him pay off his taxes.

No fanfare.

No press release.

Just a quiet favor from one Carter to another.

It felt like the feud was over.

But was it really?

Fast forward to 2024.

Lil Wayne is still revered, especially in New Orleans.

And when the Super Bowl was announced to be held in his city, many expected—some demanded—that he be the face of the halftime show.

Instead, Jay-Z, now the executive producer of the show via his deal with the NFL, chose Kendrick Lamar.

Kendrick is undeniably deserving.

But the context mattered.

And when Nicki Minaj, Birdman, and even rap legends like Cam’ron and Mase spoke out, it was impossible to ignore the deeper story unfolding beneath the surface.

Cam’ron said it best:

“This is payback.”

The idea that Jay-Z never forgot the years of disrespect.

That he’s quietly orchestrated Wayne’s exclusion—not out of malice, but out of memory.

A memory of the lyrics.

Of the interviews.

Of the tweets.

Of the “kidnap Beyoncé” line.

The silence that followed Nicki Minaj’s tweets was deafening.

Jay-Z didn’t respond.

Wayne didn’t comment.

Birdman, ever the wildcard, offered no apologies.

Instead, we were left with that eerie silence.

The kind of silence that tells you the beef never really ended.

It just went underground.

And now, in 2024, it’s back—louder, pettier, and more strategic than ever.

The truth is: this isn’t just about a halftime show.

It’s about power.

It’s about history.

It’s about respect—and revenge.

Jay-Z may have helped Wayne in private, but when it comes to the public stage? He chose someone else.

Someone safer.

Someone quieter.

Someone who never threatened the throne.

So was Kendrick chosen for his talent?

Or because he never said: “I’m the best alive since the best rapper retired”?

We’ll never know for sure.

But one thing’s clear…The throne is still protected—and guarded by its king.

And Lil Wayne?

He’s still knocking at the gates.