...before Eminem challenged Emerson...

"Why not?"

"Because that shit is whack!"

"Oh is that a matter of fact?"

"The fuck you not getting?"

"What I'm getting at

is that you have no back or shaft

for any act that may attack your laugh."

"The fuck are you on, crazy motherfucker?! None of that shit make any sense."

"Subtract the math from your evidence

to attract the wrath of this eloquence 

elaborating upon the rad significance

of said 'hardcore shit;' you want another encore

on the hit of that supercensoredkoolaidspliff

you've been using all this time, your whole life,

all your space to ease the pain of all the disgrace

that's presently painting the tapestry of humanity;

the profanity subordinating this reality, its beauty,

regardless of how dark this beauty just may be,

but just maybe you should see the opportunity

in considering the probability that justice (among other things)

will be increased subsequent to this new kind of autobiography,

rather than the incumbent means 

of confessing 'street-ass' thoughts and feelings

silently

thus hiding the

violence we

simply need

to vocalize to viralize this

symphony 

of

poetry."

"God..."

"Yeah

you

know

it's 

me."