The Slim LP ruled
It came right out of the blue
You were a cipher
Happy music and
self-loathing and all those words
made for good music
The way you sound black
when you are conversating
but white when you rap?
That is the one thing
people have not acknowledged
this jewel in your crown
It’s original
and it obviously has
not hurt your sales, no
You don’t get credit
for your answer vocals thing,
the second voice trick
Which Slick Rick did first
but you do such a good job
I cannot complain
Now it’s all fear, hate
and allegedly shocking
rhymes full of fake blood
You should have won for
the great Slim Shady LP
not peevish Marshall
But like Russell Crowe
you won for Gladiator
not The Insider
Marshall heard just once
is kind of scary and fun
like a rubber mask
But things like sex and
drugs and rock and roll and joy
are fun more than once
Me myself and I
can’t imagine playing it
more than once or twice
RZA wrote a song
about his wife–it was raw
and people complained
You did bad Brando
on that embarrassing song
“Kim,” and people clapped
There is no excuse
for your treatment of your wife
aesthetic or no
Why is your version
of “real life” so Hollywood?
Nic Cage, please stand up
Who are these people
who allegedly hate you?
Critics wet their pants
And all the young dudes
buy and memorize your work
the day it comes out
In the New York Times–
the Eminem newsletter
perhaps I should say
They talk about you
daily and on the weekend
maybe once or twice
If you are so tough
why go after Everlast?
He’s not so badass
If you are so tough
why don’t you snap on black folks?
(Leave Bob Herbert out)
And why ‘N Sync, huh?
You think they are equals?
Maybe that’s it, yes
Insane Clown Posse?
For this you risk a record?
Please, Marshall, sit down
Art accompanying story in printed newspaper (not available in this archive): illustration/Damon Locks.