In the high-stakes world of comedy, where sharp wit can cut deeper than a knife, Katt Williams turned a 2018 radio interview into a viral spectacle, roasting Atlanta’s beloved host Wanda Smith on her own show. What started as playful banter spiraled into a brutal exchange that left Smith humiliated, her career in tatters, and a dangerous confrontation with her husband, LaMorris Sellers, who allegedly chased Williams with a gun. Fast forward to October 2024, when Smith’s sudden death at 58 reignited the controversy, with fans split over whether Williams was a ruthless bully or a comedian defending his craft. Dave Chappelle, stepping into the fray, insists it was a setup, with Smith breaking promises that pushed Williams to unleash his comedic fury. As cancel culture claws at Williams, the question lingers: Was this a fair fight or a trap gone wrong?
The saga began on September 12, 2018, when Williams, fresh off an Emmy win for his role in Atlanta, joined comedian Red Grant on V-103’s Frank and Wanda in the Morning to promote upcoming shows. Smith, a radio legend who’d co-hosted the show for two decades, was a household name in Atlanta, known for her quick humor and warmth. The 20-minute interview, meant to celebrate Williams’ success, took a sharp turn when Smith’s questions veered into personal territory, despite alleged promises to avoid sensitive topics like his kids and legal issues. Williams, never one to back down, flipped the script, turning the interview into a roast that became V-103’s most-watched clip ever, racking up millions of views.

It started innocently enough. Smith asked Williams about cooking for his kids, a seemingly light question that he deflected with biting sarcasm. “Look up on your phone what it takes to make broccoli,” he quipped. “Doesn’t it say heat up water? Have you ever heard of burned broccoli?” The studio laughed, but tension simmered. Smith, trying to keep up, threw jabs about his hair and past legal troubles, calling him “Lil Mama” and implying he might be gay. Williams pounced, dismantling her with precision. “My hair is 19 inches long, no perm,” he shot back. “Come run one of your gnarled fingers through it.” He mocked her jewelry, suggesting it came free with a pack of Newports, and shut down her prison jabs: “19 felonies, no convictions.”
The exchange was brutal but quintessential Katt—sharp, unfiltered, and unrelenting. Smith, a comedian herself, struggled to match his pace, her laughter masking frustration. “You big on the radio,” Williams taunted, turning her attempt to shade his size against her. By the end, the studio was a mix of awkward chuckles and stunned silence, with co-host Frank Ski failing to cut to commercial to save Smith. She later admitted feeling “attacked,” saying Williams came with an agenda, while he insisted she broke her word. “She promised no kids, no jail talk,” he told Shannon Sharpe on Club Shay Shay in January 2024. “Then she went the opposite way. You can’t flip up on me because you’re an inferior comedian.”
The fallout didn’t end on air. Three days later, on September 15, 2018, at the Atlanta Comedy Theater in Norcross, where Smith was hosting a comedy night, things turned dangerous. Williams, there to support Red Grant, allegedly approached Smith, saying, “I told you f**kin’ with me would make you go viral!” Her husband, LaMorris Sellers, stepped in, sparking a heated confrontation. According to Williams, Sellers chased him into a nearby Food Depot supermarket, pointing a gun at his face. Sellers admitted to the chase but denied aiming the weapon, claiming it fell from his waistband during a scuffle with Williams’ bodyguard. Security footage confirmed Sellers holding a gun but didn’t show him pointing it. The Gwinnett County police investigated, but Williams’ refusal to cooperate stalled the probe.
Smith addressed the incident on her show, insisting Sellers was protecting her from Williams’ aggression. “I felt like he had an agenda to attack me,” she said, her voice breaking. But the damage was done. In January 2019, V-103 fired Smith and co-host Miss Sophia, with no official reason given. Many speculated the “Lil Mama” comments, perceived as homophobic in Atlanta’s vibrant Black gay community, played a role. “She tried to embarrass me in front of a largely homosexual fanbase,” Williams said on Club Shay Shay. “Gay people don’t take kindly to that as a derogatory term.” Fans were divided: some felt Smith’s firing was unfair, while others believed she’d crossed a line.
Dave Chappelle, weighing in after Smith’s death on October 12, 2024, defended Williams, framing the clash as comedy’s raw essence. “Comedy is the only job where you can use everything you know,” he said, quoting Robin Williams. “Don’t let these folks button your lip.” Chappelle argued Smith’s attempt to shade Williams invited his response, and digging up the clip years later to “cancel” him was absurd. “Katt was doing what he’s always done—pushing back,” he said, comparing it to his own battles with cancel culture over trans jokes. He called out the hypocrisy of fans who laughed in 2018 but now branded Williams a villain after Smith’s passing, a day after her 58th birthday.
Social media erupted with mixed reactions. Some fans mourned Smith, a radio icon who’d founded the empowerment group Girls Stand Together and appeared in films like Madea Goes to Jail. “Wanda was more than a Katt Williams roast,” one X user wrote. “She was Atlanta’s voice for decades.” Others felt Williams owed her family an apology, especially after his 2024 mea culpa for mocking Michael Jackson. “He apologized for MJ but stays silent on Wanda?” a commenter asked. Yet supporters rallied behind Williams, arguing Smith provoked him. “She tried to roast a master and got burned,” one wrote. “Katt didn’t start it.”
Williams’ Club Shay Shay interview shed light on his perspective. He claimed the roast was never personal, insisting he never insulted Smith’s character, only her comedic skills. “I didn’t call her out of her name,” he told Willie D in 2024. “It was a trap, and I’m a rhinoceros, not a turtle.” He framed the gun incident as a life-threatening overreaction, noting the world excused it because it was him. “Had that been Will Smith slapping Chris Rock, people lost their minds,” he said. “But a gun in my face? Silence.” Williams expressed no ill will toward Smith, even saying, “I love Wanda,” but stood firm that her actions—breaking promises and escalating the feud—set the stage.
Smith’s firing marked a turning point. Her career, built on years with Def Comedy Jam and V-103, never fully recovered. While she continued comedy and community work, her public presence faded. Her death in 2024, from undisclosed causes, prompted an outpouring of tributes from stars like Loni Love and Tiny Harris, who called her an Atlanta legend. Yet the resurfaced clip, shared widely on X, stirred controversy anew. “Be respectful,” one fan urged. “Don’t post that roast now.” Others couldn’t resist, with posts like, “Katt cooked her so bad her husband pulled up,” amassing thousands of views.
The debate hinges on intent and context. Was Williams a bully, as some claim, or a comedian defending his space? Smith’s supporters argue she was outmatched, not expecting a roast to turn personal. Williams’ defenders, backed by Chappelle, see it as a setup—Smith breaking her word and paying the price. The gun incident, whether exaggerated or not, underscores the stakes: a joke turned into a real threat. Williams’ silence after Smith’s death, contrasted with his MJ apology, fuels speculation about his feelings. Did he reach out privately, or is his silence a statement? Without evidence, it’s a guessing game.
This clash reveals the tightrope comedians walk. Williams, a master of unfiltered humor, thrives on pushing boundaries, but the line between roasting and cruelty blurs in the public eye. Chappelle’s defense highlights a broader truth: comedy demands freedom, but audiences demand accountability. As cancel culture digs through old clips, the Wanda Smith saga remains a flashpoint—a reminder that words can spark laughter, pain, or even danger. For Atlanta, Smith’s legacy endures beyond the roast, but for Williams, it’s a chapter that won’t close, proving comedy’s power to uplift and destroy in equal measure.