Wale was born to Nigerian immigrant parents in Washington, DC. He grew up on Peabody Street in Northwest DC and moved to Largo, Maryland as a teenager. He attended seven different high schools in Washington, D.C. and Maryland, finally graduating from Quince Orchard High School in 2001. He went to Robert Morris College and Virginia State University on football scholarships, and then Bowie State University but dropped out in 2004 to pursue music full-time. Before music started paying the bills, Wale worked day jobs at Sprint, Up Against The Wall and Downtown Locker Room.
Wale emerged onto the local DC hip hop scene with the help of WKYS-FM's DJ Alizay. Wale began getting radio play in 2004 with a single called "Rhyme of the Century" which got Wale in the June 2005 "Unsigned Hype" section of Source magazine and his buzz started growing.
In November 2006, a feature ran on AllHipHop.com's Breeding Ground about Wale. The day before Thanksgiving, Wale took the stage between Lil Wayne and T.I. during the Southern Invasion tour at the Verizon Center.
In early December 2006, Wale won the award for "D.C. Metro Breakthrough Artist of the Year" at WKYS' Go-Go Awards. On December 15, The Fader magazine associate editor Nick "Catchdubs" Barat visited Wale for an interview and photo shoot which appeared in the March 2007 issue of The Fader.
Wale has an upcoming promotional campaign with Remy Martin and XXL Magazine. He has also been linked to boutique streetwear brands The Hundreds, 10 Deep and Good Bully, as well as lifestyle brands Stussy and LRG.
In January 2007, Wale released a new single to radio called "Good Girls." Daniel Weisman gave the song to Mark Ronson and on February 23, 2007, Ronson began playing the song on his East Village Radio show. A week later, at Ronson's studio, Wale recorded a freestyle for Ronson and in exchange, Ronson put Wale on an unreleased remix of Lily Allen's "Smile" which appeared on a number of music blogs around the world on March 13th, 2007. In April of 2007, Ronson asked Wale to join him on a UK tour to promote the release of his newest album. In June of 2007, Wale signed to a production deal with Ronson's Allido Records.
On June 24, 2007, Wale's "Ice Cream Girl" with TCB, was featured on the show Entourage, on HBO.
Wale performed "W.A.L.E.D.A.N.C.E.", from his 100 Miles mixtape, at the 2007 MTV Video Music Awards in Las Vegas, NV.
Wale was also featured in the October 2007 issues of XXL and Rolling Stone. The Washington Post profiled Wale on the front page of the Sunday Style section in the October 21st, 2007 edition. Wale is featured on the cover of URB Magazine's 150th issue along with French electro group, Justice.
iTunes released "Nike Boots" as a free download on November 13th, 2007 as its "Single of the Week." On Christmas Day 2007, Wale debuted the "Nike Boots Remix" featuring Lil Wayne and Green Lantern on his myspace page. Wale and Lil Wayne played a Nike Boots event called DC Stand Up at Ibiza Nightclub in DC on January 15, 2008 which was sponsored by Nike and Footaction.
In the November 30th, 2007 issue of Entertainment Weekly, Wale is featured as one of 8 people to watch in 2008 along with actors Simon Pegg and Rachel McAdams.
On March 12, 2008, Wale announced on 93.9 WKYS that he had signed with Interscope.
On April 29, 2008, the new Roots album entitled Rising Down was released, featuring Wale on the final track. Wale's relationship with the Roots began when Black Thought heard a song recorded as a tribute to himself on Wale's 2007 mixtape 100 Miles & Running and contacted Wale.
In the June issue of the German Hip-Hop magazine JUICE Wale announced that his upcoming debut-album will feature production credits from Mark Ronson, Kanye West, Just Blaze, 9th Wonder and the French electronic music duo Justice.
http://www.myspace.com/wale202
My Boy
Wale Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Right here?
Nah, not yet
Yeah, bounce, bounce
My boy, my boy
My boy, my boy, my boy
Yeah, right here?
Ay, look, uh, yo, ok
Concrete since day one
Ain't no time to make up
Ain't no top on that hoop
Like baby, word to A cup
Thank you for your services, invoicing all my haters
Be sure to leave your armor and your woman penetrated
I give her back, I hate her
Poof, get outta here
I say congratulations, your old lady renovated
You niggas lazy, my boy
Why you hatin', my guy?
You bought her Commes des Garçons
She come and play with your heart
I'm far from a popular artist, one of the hardest, no less
And I saw your woman, I call her low like a Cardigan sweater
Call her whatever you want
I got my revenue up
In Beverly Hills, my ceilings like the Beverly brothers, oh
Since day one, Folarin been the same one
I came up in them go-gos most of them was afraid of
Now kill moe, say that
Now kill moe, say that
But when your wheel is a fortune, you ne'er gotta say jack
Don't be talking too much
These niggas copy too much
These niggas cardio crazy
Chasing clout must be tough
Fuck it, I wrote me, a dozen niggas got me fucked up
I raise my hands and raise your family's casualties up, I'm faded
I'm playing
These niggas don't be no gangster, they be paying it, yeah
Extortion ain't dead, it just moved to the county
Shoot 'em out the S-class, I guess you don't see the problem
I know every who and who and every who that I'm around
And what you call a piece of mind, I call a picture for a bounty
Hold up, yeah
I'm in my luggage, in my luggage
Hold up, boy
I'm on the runway like I'm Jackie, hold up
Prolific, really be living my lyrics
So tell me, who did it this big and who ain't 'bout to slow up?
My boy, my boy
My boy, my boy
My boy, my boy
My boy
My boy, my boy, my boy
Who gon' bring my crown to me? (Yeah)
And who won' try to fuck with me? (Ay)
Faded off the brown (brown)
She can't get enough of me (ay)
I don't play around ('round)
Ain't got that type of luxury (yeah)
Bitches going down (down)
And ain't no catching up to me
Yeah, stepped in the building with my vibe on a million
Slide on the beat like, "my God, I'm so brilliant"
All other rappers, put your pride to the side
Try collide with the squad, turn your mob into corn on the cob
You's a fraud, you's a thorn in my side
I'm a knife in your back, I'm that turn of the knob on the door
When the boy from the corner come rob you
And tie you up to something, now, stop with all that frontin'
That big money talk should be reserved for those that got it
But when you really got it, you ain't pressed to talk about it
That's why I hear that capping on your raps and highly doubt it
The game too crowded
I'm 'bout to get all the way the fuck up out it
No if's, and's or but's about it
Thirty mil' on a deal depending on how the tour was routed
I seen your watch when you first dropped, that shit was clouded
Which means, you used to fugazi shit
Fake it 'til you make it-type, I shoot through you crazy with
Hollow tips, no holler backs, just hotter raps
I gotta black to make sure every dirty dollar stacked
Y'all aiming for the stars, bitch, I'm aiming at your starter cap
Run, nigga, run like a fucking black quarterback (uh)
Stereotypical, but to hear me is pivotal
I will bury you niggas and come and air out your funeral
Have your homies on stretchers right next to Roman numerals
IV's, IV's
It's the reason why nobody try me, try me
Have a nigga screaming, "Lord, why me? Why me? Cole did me grimy"
"He took it too far, he treat them bullets like they Siamese"
Back to back, I clap like that's a wrap, but
No video shoots, just hoodies and boots
Putting your troops in pine boxes
I blew a million on white tees and Calvin Klein boxers
This nigga silly
My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy
My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy
My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy
My boy, my boy, my boy, say word!
Who gon' bring the crown? (My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy)
And who won' try to fuck with me? (My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy)
Faded off the brown, she can't get enough of me (my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy)
I don't play around, don't got that type of luxury (my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy)
Bitches going down, her body catching up to me (my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy)
Who gon' bring my crown? (Crown)
And who won' try to fuck with me? (Ay)
Faded off the brown (brown), she can't get enough of me (ay)
I don't play around ('round), ain't got that type of luxury (yeah)
Bitches going down, it ain't no catching up to me
Who gon' bring my crown? (Crown)
And who won' try to fuck with me? (Ay)
Faded off the brown (brown), she can't get enough of me (ay)
I don't play around ('round), ain't got that type of luxury (yeah)
Bitches going down, it ain't no catching up to me
Who gon' bring my crown?
And who won' try to fuck with me?
Faded off the brown, and she can't get enough of me
I don't play around ('round), don't got that type of luxury
Bitches going down, it ain't no catching up to me
The lyrics to Wale's song My Boy depict a rapper who speaks with confidence about his success and the hard work he put in to get to where he is today. The beginning of the song features Wale conversing with rapper J. Cole, but it's not until the second half of the song that Wale really starts to flow. He talks about how he's been "concrete since day one" and how he has no time to "make up," implying he stays true to himself and doesn't compromise his authenticity for anyone. He also seems to enjoy taunting his haters, thanking them for "invoicing" their hate and being sure to leave their "armor" and "woman penetrated."
As the song progresses, Wale addresses those who copy too much or chase clout, calling them "lazy" and "cardio crazy." He contrasts his own work ethic and drive, emphasizing how he's one of the "hardest" artists out there. He also raps about how he's not impressed by cheap talk and fake watches and how his experience in the rap game has taught him to be wary of those who try to front like they have money when they really don't.
Overall, the song is a testament to Wale's perseverance and ambition to stay true to himself despite the pressures and distractions that come with fame, money, and success.
Line by Line Meaning
Count me in, Cole
Include me in the conversation, Cole
Right here?
Am I at the right place?
Nah, not yet
No, not yet
Yeah, bounce, bounce
Yeah, let's get going
My boy, my boy
My friend, my friend
Concrete since day one
Been solid from the beginning
Ain't no time to make up
No time to waste
Ain't no top on that hoop
The hoop has no limit
Like baby, word to A cup
Similar to a small chested woman
Thank you for your services, invoicing all my haters
Appreciate your efforts in dealing with my haters
Be sure to leave your armor and your woman penetrated
Make sure to leave your defenses and your woman exposed
I give her back, I hate her
I return her, I dislike her
Poof, get outta here
Disappear, leave
I say congratulations, your old lady renovated
I congratulate you, your woman has changed
You niggas lazy, my boy
You guys are lazy, my friend
Why you hatin', my guy?
Why are you hating, my man?
You bought her Commes des Garçons
You bought her designer clothes
She come and play with your heart
She comes and toy with your emotions
I'm far from a popular artist, one of the hardest, no less
I'm not widely known, but one of the most talented
And I saw your woman, I call her low like a Cardigan sweater
And I saw your woman, I refer to her as insignificant like a Cardigan sweater
Call her whatever you want
Refer to her as anything you like
I got my revenue up
I increased my income
In Beverly Hills, my ceilings like the Beverly brothers, oh
In Beverly Hills, my house has high ceilings like the Beverly brothers
Since day one, Folarin been the same one
Since the beginning, Folarin has remained unchanged
I came up in them go-gos most of them was afraid of
I grew up in the dangerous neighborhoods that most people were afraid of
Now kill moe, say that
Now kill more, say that
But when your wheel is a fortune, you ne'er gotta say jack
But when you're wealthy, you don't have to say anything
Don't be talking too much
Don't talk excessively
These niggas copy too much
These guys imitate too much
These niggas cardio crazy
These guys are obsessed with their reputation
Chasing clout must be tough
Trying to gain popularity must be difficult
Fuck it, I wrote me, a dozen niggas got me fucked up
Fuck it, I wrote about myself, a lot of guys misunderstood me
I raise my hands and raise your family's casualties up, I'm faded
I surrender and cause harm to your loved ones, I'm intoxicated
I'm playing
I'm joking
These niggas don't be no gangster, they be paying it, yeah
These guys are not real gangsters, they just pretend, yeah
Extortion ain't dead, it just moved to the county
Extortion is still happening, just in a different location
Shoot 'em out the S-class, I guess you don't see the problem
Shoot them from a Mercedes S-class car, I guess you don't understand the issue
I know every who and who and every who that I'm around
I know everyone and who they are and everyone I associate with
And what you call a piece of mind, I call a picture for a bounty
What you consider peace of mind, I consider a way to profit
I'm in my luggage, in my luggage
I'm in my zone
I'm on the runway like I'm Jackie, hold up
I'm on a path to success, hold on
Prolific, really be living my lyrics
I'm truly living the lifestyle I rap about
So tell me, who did it this big and who ain't 'bout to slow up?
So tell me, who achieved success like this and who won't stop?
Who gon' bring the crown to me?
Who will bring me the crown?
And who won' try to fuck with me?
And who won't try to mess with me?
Faded off the brown
Intoxicated from alcohol
She can't get enough of me
She is infatuated with me
I don't play around
I don't mess around
Ain't got that type of luxury
I don't have the ability to waste time
Bitches going down
Women are falling for me
And ain't no catching up to me
And nobody can keep up with me
Stepped in the building with my vibe on a million
Entered the building with a confident and energetic demeanor
Slide on the beat like, 'my God, I'm so brilliant'
Effortlessly flow on the music track, showcasing my brilliance
All other rappers, put your pride to the side
All other rappers, set aside your ego
Try collide with the squad, turn your mob into corn on the cob
If you try to attack our group, we'll completely dismantle you
You's a fraud, you's a thorn in my side
You're a fake, you're an annoyance to me
I'm a knife in your back, I'm that turn of the knob on the door
I'm the betrayal you never saw coming, I'm the unexpected obstacle
When the boy from the corner come rob you
When the guy from the neighborhood comes to steal from you
And tie you up to something, now, stop with all that frontin'
And restrain you, now stop pretending
That big money talk should be reserved for those that got it
Talking about wealth should be limited to those who actually have it
But when you really got it, you ain't pressed to talk about it
But when you truly have it, you don't feel the need to brag
That's why I hear that capping on your raps and highly doubt it
That's why I doubt the claims you make in your lyrics
The game too crowded
The industry is too saturated
I'm 'bout to get all the way the fuck up out it
I'm about to completely leave it behind
No if's, and's or but's about it
No doubts or hesitations
Thirty mil' on a deal depending on how the tour was routed
Got a $30 million deal based on the success of the tour
I seen your watch when you first dropped, that shit was clouded
I saw your watch when you first got it, it was fake
Which means, you used to fugazi shit
Which means, you used to wear fake things
Fake it 'til you make it-type, I shoot through you crazy with
Pretend until you succeed, but I will target you relentlessly
Hollow tips, no holler backs, just hotter raps
Bullets that don't miss, no response, just intense lyrics
I gotta black to make sure every dirty dollar stacked
I have a gun to ensure all my ill-gotten money is secured
Y'all aiming for the stars, bitch, I'm aiming at your starter cap
You guys aim high, but I'm targeting your initial success
Run, nigga, run like a fucking black quarterback
Run away, like a black quarterback on the field
Stereotypical, but to hear me is pivotal
Cliché, but listening to me is crucial
I will bury you niggas and come and air out your funeral
I will defeat you and then mock your funeral
Have your homies on stretchers right next to Roman numerals
Your friends will be carried on stretchers next to the numbers on your tombstone
IV's, IV's
Intravenous drips, Intravenous drips
It's the reason why nobody try me, try me
That's why nobody dares to challenge me
Have a nigga screaming, 'Lord, why me? Why me? Cole did me grimy'
Make someone shout, 'God, why me? Why did Cole betray me?'
'He took it too far, he treat them bullets like they Siamese'
'He went too far, he handles the bullets brutally'
Back to back, I clap like that's a wrap, but
Successive claps, I applaud as if it's finished, but
No video shoots, just hoodies and boots
No fancy music videos, just casual clothing and boots
Putting your troops in pine boxes
Putting your companions in coffins
I blew a million on white tees and Calvin Klein boxers
I spent a million on plain t-shirts and designer boxers
This nigga silly
This guy is foolish
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Written by: Jermaine L. Cole, Olubowale Victor Akintimehin
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
@walemusic
Y'all like this one huh? Sounds like we need a video
@LiLIc3man061
Wale yall most definitely need a video
@DontSayit.-ss4ov
for sure
@xviovi75457
Watchu waiting for sir.
@dominictanner1187
Wale what you think about that new J.I.D 151 rum??
@jamesbroady3604
Would be nice. This definitely has "lead single" energy. Keep pushing Wale!
@laquintanix
I love their chemistry on a track!!!
@TellemQShotYou
Indeed!
@IshanII
Hey would you mind checking out my new songs? Cole's one my biggest inspirations, and I'm really trying to make it as an artist
@massimopastizzo8874
J Cole's IV line straight knocked me into the shadow realm.