In a recent interview, Lil Wayne didn’t hold back his feelings about the decision. “They stole that feeling,” he said, referring to the excitement and pride he once imagined feeling if he had the chance to perform for his city. His disappointment ran so deep that he made a bold declaration: he will never perform at the Super Bowl, ever.

“I’ve done everything I could to show I was ready,” Wayne explained. He described how he had adjusted his public image, taken on appearances, and made efforts to show the NFL and event organizers that he could deliver a show worthy of the biggest stage in the world. “I was ready. I did everything. And they still didn’t choose me,” he said.

When the announcement came that Kendrick Lamar would headline the 2025 halftime show, Wayne said he couldn’t bring himself to watch it. “It broke me,” he admitted, recalling the sting of rejection. “I couldn’t even look at it. I had to turn away. It wasn’t about Kendrick — it was about what that moment meant to me.”

Wayne’s frustration wasn’t directed at Lamar personally. In fact, he revealed that he had reached out to Kendrick after the announcement to congratulate him and offer support. “I told him, ‘Kill it. Do your thing.’ I got love for him,” he said. His disappointment, he emphasized, was with the system — with the way the entertainment industry often overlooks artists who have shaped culture for decades.

For Lil Wayne, the Super Bowl snub was more than a missed gig; it was an emotional wound tied to his legacy. The New Orleans native has long carried his city on his back, representing it in his music and persona. Performing at a Super Bowl in his hometown would have been more than symbolic — it would have been a homecoming, a celebration of everything he’s built since his days as a teenage rapper under Cash Money Records.

“Performing at the Super Bowl in New Orleans would’ve been the ultimate moment,” he said. “That was supposed to be my victory lap.”

The pain of rejection, however, seems to have given Wayne a sense of clarity. By vowing not to perform at any future Super Bowls, he’s not just expressing bitterness — he’s reclaiming control. “I’m done waiting for people to decide when I’m good enough,” he said. “If it happens, it happens. But I’m not chasing it anymore.”

Industry observers have noted that the NFL’s Halftime Show has become increasingly political and image-driven, often prioritizing safe, marketable acts over raw influence. Many fans online echoed Wayne’s frustration, arguing that his absence from the stage feels like a missed opportunity to honor one of hip-hop’s greatest contributors. Social media reactions were quick to side with him, with one viral post reading: “How do you host the Super Bowl in New Orleans and NOT book Lil Wayne?”

Still, Wayne remains philosophical about it. “They can have it,” he said, his tone calm but resolute. “I know who I am. I know what I’ve done. My fans know too.”

As for what’s next, Lil Wayne says he’s focusing on his music, his label Young Money, and mentoring the next generation of artists. “I don’t need that stage to validate me,” he said. “I’ve built my own.”

For a man who’s been in the game for over two decades, the statement carries weight. Maybe the NFL missed its chance — not just for a performance, but for a piece of history.

Because when Lil Wayne says “never again,” you believe him.