A long, long time ago, artists used to announce when they were releasing albums. 8 years ago, on the 10th of June, the world eagerly received Tha Carter III after countless leaks and it changed the game. A million copies in one week, before streaming. Three Grammy wins and one Album of the Year nomination. Lil Wayne truly was the Best Rapper Alive.

It all began with that music video where a 5′ 5″ rapper with long dreadlocks and a silver grill, stood on top of a limousine and rode through Las Vegas. “Lollipop” was released in March 2008 and we collectively lost our minds. Then, he followed up the catchy, syrupy, auto-tune thick single with something completely different. “A Milli” was punchline after punchline, with short breaths for air and the refrain on loop. Before the days of RapGenius, you either got certain lines or you didn’t, but either way, you would debate them for hours between classes with your crew.

Thus began Weezymania. We scrounged the Internet for more Weezy and we found it, not with the previous albums, but with the mixtapes and loosies we downloaded online that would all give us different meanings of what the “F” was for in “Weezy F. Baby.” On top of this, he was the standout on all of your favorite singles, from Usher’s “Love in This Club (Remix)” to T.I.’s “Swagga Like Us.”

His influence expanded. In 2009, I heard a senior sing to himself “You the, you the best,” and before I knew it, a light skinned, beardless kid from Canada was announced with Young Money. We were still debating which collaboration was better between “Ransom” and “Unstoppable (Remix)” when he told us, “she be jumping up and down, tryna fit that ass in” on “Every Girl in the World.” Months after that, I was watching TV when a woman with black bangs and crazy eyes rapped, “I just had an epiphany, I need to go to Tiffanys” and I was mesmerized. The following year, she was on “BedRock,” rhyming about Asbestos. Weezymania produced Drake and Nicki Minaj, never forget that.

However, there was a lot we all collectively chose to forget, and understandably so. Rebirth was a mess, starting with “Prom Queen” and reaching peak messiness with “Knockout,” featuring Nicki Minaj. It wasn’t bad because rap and rock don’t work together, it was just not very good. I also have some vague recollections of him being on “Push” with Enrique Iglesias and “Women Lie, Men Lie” with Yo Gotti, but I choose to forget that, too. So when I Am Not a Human Being released, I wanted it to be a good album. I turned a blind eye to Drake recycling his “Bollywood” verse on a song where Lil Wayne seriously rapped, “Life is a beach/I’m just playing in the sand.” “I’m Single” was a masterpiece, but he didn’t rap on it. All the others were lackluster at best. We cheered for our hero when it debuted at the top of the charts, not realizing that we were slowly experiencing the descent of Lil Wayne.

Every six months after that, almost routinely, we would all convince ourselves that Lil Wayne was back. But, Sorry 4 Tha Wait was a mistake, Shyne had the best verse on Tha Carter IV, “Love Me” was the only real single from I Am Not a Human Being II and Chance bodied Dedication V with his verse. We did not hope in vain though, because in this period, he delivered stellar closing verses on “I’m On One” and “Pop That.” He also released Dedication IV which I have been saying for the last four years is the best Lil Wayne project since C3 but no one believes me.

My theory is that Lil Wayne’s skateboard does the reverse of the Silver Surfer’s board in the second Fantastic Four movie. It is where he loses all of his power instead. It is sad to think that Lil Wayne is to the kids what Nas is to me — someone who you know theoretically is supposed to be a great rapper, but you haven’t actually witnessed it yourself. I have personally come to accept that he is never coming back and this is it. I am just incredibly grateful to have been a rap fan when “A Milli” came out.