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.