An Open Letter to Eminem

Dear Eminem,

            I can’t believe it. I can’t believe I’m addressing the man who has influenced my creativity and my teenage angst. Eminem. The person who was my anarchist anti-hero who managed to create so many memorable tracks that I can return to and my hard day can disappear. And somehow, I won’t want to burn down my place of employment. He spoke to my inner rage when I was just a boy, and he materialized all the words that I couldn’t say. The world was a new and scary place and the songs “pistol pistol” off D12’s 2001 album, Devil’s Night, brought my impressionable mind into such a vivid place.

He did such wonders for my creativity. He helped push me to be as bold and creative as I should and remain. I remember when my mother came home with the Marshall Mather’s LP, and I was so amazed that she bought it for me. I was in 8^th grade, and my mind was transformed into the man you see today in these words.

            I was definitely inspired and moved by the first four albums, The Slim Shady LP, The Marshall Mathers LP, The Eminem Show, and Encore. Those albums turned me into the beast you see in the words. Even Daniel Day Lewis was listening to the Marshall Mathers LP in his down time on the set of Martin Scorsese’s luscious 2002 period piece Gangs of New York.

            So, why in the hell is my anarchist child hood hero, Eminem sending a cease and desist letter to Vivek Ramaswamy, a new front runner for the Republican party, for rapping like Eminem. It’s almost like staring at a bitch made version of Eminem and the way someone might laugh at a rapper who has too many home boys around him when he’s in the club and starts shit. I almost laugh when I think about what a loser my child hood anarchist has become.

And as NWA said, I smell pussy. Is that you Em?

I guess he stopped doing drugs and realized he wouldn’t be able to reach the heights he once had when he was high. The way someone stares at an old book, like how they see Stephen King prattling on about how Donald Trump is so bad. Which is another bone of contention for this letter. Eminem went onto diss Donald Trump on the BET 2017 awards ceremony.

Which is almost befuddling. Like looking at someone and just blinking your eyes. And nothing that Eminem says at this point adds up. Like his whole mouth and whatever words come out aren’t his own.

            So it doesn’t compute. The once anarchist drug addict super villain that would make every Marvel hero piss themselves, Eminem, is now the gas station attendant in a hoodie who now suddenly pretending to have a conscience. Blow me you arrogant sack of shit. And here I thought Ja Rule was a piece of shit loser come stain on the rap game. So consider what your next move might be, because it might be for the marbles. Since you don’t have that yet.

So, I employ you, stop being a retard, talk to Dr. Dre, make better music, and keep being the anarchist superhero that I know you for, and not this sober douche bag uncle who can’t put words together.

            Fucking sissy. Hide in that million dollar mansion, and thank god you don’t go outside. And you were lucky with the MGK beef. I think I might write a diss song, but let Stan, your beloved character, join me in a revenge crusade, to collect back royalties for the money you owe him and his family.

            Sincerely,

            LtB