The previous weekend was blazing hot for our entire editorial staff. We were head over heels into Eminem’s “Music To Be Murdered By” album working our asses off to give you the best content and made this special edition EJ magazine. It has exclusive ePro reviews of Eminem’s new creation high-res exclusive photos from our vault. You can find this issue of the magazine here. Our exclusive review of MTBMB is now available for reading on our website.

Author: Mic Twista

I’ve known that something’s been cooking… There’s a certain aura and quiet twinkling in the sky at night when Shady’s locked up in his studio working. Plus my left ear starts to fucking itch before I go to sleep. And I dream about voices whispering while rhyming at the same time in the darkness… All this starts like maybe 1 to 2 weeks before the album drops. So I was waiting… But, hell, I wasn’t expecting a frag grenade album like this. And I thought Kamikaze was a slaughter… Alright, ain’t gonna keep you waiting, let’s get murdered by music, and I’ll try to guide you through it as best as I can.

Play This Tune, It’s Your Eulogy, It’s Your Funeral, Prepare To Die

Aaaggghhh… Those soothing sounds of a shovel smashing… Now that’s something to put an end to my left-ear itch!

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Eminem is a lyrical warlord, an insane mastermind-of-syllables maniac and an artist that treats hip-hop’s technicality as one of the cornerstones of the art and the MC’s most valuable quality. But he also went through and continues to go through so much shit that Eminem’s minute of agony probably amounts to a whole life span of struggles of an average white male. He’s got some wisdom to share. That’s why when you say that he’s got nothing to say, you get this intro track in return:

They said I’m lyrically amazing
But I have nothing to say
But then when I put out Revival and I had something to say
They said that they hated, they awake me
I lose the rage, I’m too tame
I get it back, they say I’m too angry

Fans keep on pulling me one way
Haters pull me in another
They said I’m just a whiner, I sound like a baby
I dish it out but can’t take it
But I take it, dish it back out
And they get all bent out of shape
This shit’s almost comical

Marshall’s just painting his picture. He’s welcoming you into a part of his world with every album. If you don’t like what you see, just get the fuck out. He puts in so much into his lines and delivers more quality with one album than modern-day artists deliver throughout their careers. If you’re saying that Eminem has nothing to say, then that just means that lots of shit went over your fucking head. Sorry, I mean to offend. Sic.

Any Revival haters in the house? I personally love the album, as it’s quite personal and reflective. If you don’t like it, then you can shove some medicine up your assholes, and listen:

I sell like four mill when I put out a bad album
Revival flopped, came back and I scared the crap out ’em
But Rolling Stone stars, I get two and a half outta
Five, and I’ll laugh out loud
‘Cause that’s what they gave bad back in the day
Which actually made me not feel as bad now, ’cause
If it happened to James
It can happen to Shady

And for anyone who thinks Shady ain’t as ill as he was back in the day, here’s what I always wanted to say in response but now I can just quote it:

Instead of us being credited for longevity
And being able to keep it up for this long at this level, we
Get told we’ll never be what we were
Bitch, if I was as half as good as I was
I’m still twice as good as you’ll ever be
Only way that you’re ahead of me’s alphabetically

Fuuuugghhhhh… This intro ain’t no longer than a verse and we’ve slaughtered have the population already. Feels like an alien invasion. And what do they do after the first wave hits? Right. Targeted extermination. Prepare yourselves.


Yeah, that’s what we doing, Young M.A 😂

Bet that’s what Marshall asked Young before they went to record the song, haha. The song is hella entertaining, I like the hook especially. Look out, cause,

Here comes Saddam Hussein, Ayatollah Khomeini
Where’s Osama been? I been laden lately
Look at how I’m behaving me, they want me gone away
They wanna JonBenet me (Fuck you), I’m unaccommodating

After I write this article I wanna go on some ccommodating myself actually. Ahahaha.. Egh, well, All jokes aside, I also found some lyrical gems here as well.

I’m moving on but you know your scruples are gone when you’re born with Lucifer’s horns
And you’re from the school of Notorious,
Puba, Cube and The Poor Righteous Teachers tutored my students
Showed them all the blueprint and formula
But it seems like the more they studied my music, the more they remind me of eyeballs
I’m watching my pupils get cornier

That’s right. We’re all watching Marshall’s pupils as they get cornier. You never get enough of these multidimensional punchlines. And as for the pupils, get back to the drawing board, motherfuckers! Start taking some notes or something!

This is fucking Marshall, so

For you to go against me, it’s simply insane, you will die
That’s why they call me Kamikaze, it’s plain suicide

I ain’t on a plane right now, so I ain’t worried, how bout you? Damn, I just love devouring his lyrics.

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Pray You See Tomorrow Lil’ Boy, You Gon’ Learn

Marshall’s lyrics are like a very concentrated liquid solution. Concentrated with multisyllabic rhymes, complex punchlines, but also meaningful storytelling. This song is very concentrated with that last component. Royce 5’9 also adds meaningful substance to this composition. So it’s like a premium blend of Bad and Evil on the track.

Eminem goes on telling his story from childhood to present day and ends on a high note describing his current position in the game:

I’m a God to you, y’all better worship the water I walk on
Or y’all gonna meet your Waterloo
I get to flippin’ the mic’ as a murder weapon
I’m poppin’ an extra clip, then cock and shoot, then I’m popping
Do not let me catch you slippin’
I will pop up and I’ll take a spot from you
I’ll get to doing what a leaky faucet do
But I ain’t talkin’ drip when I say that I’ll get the drop on you
Singin’ fuck all of you in Autotune
I am too volatile and too grizzly to bear
Yeah, shit is gettin’ to where I can barely even sit in a chair
I bust my ass for this shit and I swear
It ain’t even worth dissing someone so offbeat
That they can’t even figure out where their words
Should hit the kick and the snare

Those last couple of lines I fucking loved. I just hope that those Lil boys gon’ hear and gon’ learn.

How Do You Do, Ladies and Gentlemen?

Why wasn’t Alfred Hitchcock mentioned as a guest artist on the album? I bet it would score us some fans of the ill-famed filmmaker. Anyhow, his presence just adds to the overall nervewracking atmosphere. The beats on the album are out of this world and a couple of my friends even told me they remind them of the golden era of Eminem Show. I guess this is to do with a certain doctor at work. Alfred Hitchcock certainly adds an indelible touch and serves well as Shady’s new skit character. I admit he’s a lot different from Ken Kanniff and way more moody, but the horrorcore seems to be more amusing than frightening.

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This Beat’s Takin’ Me Back to My D12 Days

Sometimes you feel like you know so much about Marshall, all you can hear is the same story told using different wording and a whole package of new punchlines and metaphors. But on this album, I feel like I’ve found so many new and interesting details from his past. “Those Kinda Nights” is a tribute to his whiling out days with D12 when they would go to clubs after shows to pick up girls. But it ain’t just some trashy song. As always Eminem goes humorous, sarcastic, witty and wordy about telling the story.

This beat keeps takin’ me back like my ex does
Only ’cause how good the sex was
Hit up the next club, met Alexa
But she was so extra, called her etcetera
Had her like “Oh, my God, my whole inbox filled with your songs, I mow my lawn to ’em”
I said “Oh, my God, you know my songs, that’s totally awesome, I’m Marshall, what’s goin’ on?” (Haha)
Seriously though, jokes aside, how you doin’? You straight?
She said “No, I’m bi”
She said “Are you drunk?”, I said “No, I’m high”
I’m checkin’ out the chick, she said “So am I”

I just go into hysterical laughter when I hear this. The way he writes and the way he performs it as he spits through the mic. This is like poetry in motion at its finest. And it’s the best piece of comical entertainment. Damn, I would suggest Marshall going into comedy after he’s done with his rap career. 😂

And in this album, for some particular reason [sic], the best is always left for last in the songs:

Roll up the car windows
Monte Carlo in park, bumpin’ Bizarre’s demo
Gettin head in the bucket, marshmello
Yeah, I never in the club met a woman worth knowin’
But if your ho’in
Opposite attract, I’m someone, you’re a no one
I’m high and your bi
I’m comin’, you’re goin

I ain’t even gonna go into details about what’s going on here lyrically. This is syllable-genius slaughtering of beats without wasting a word at its finest. If you need some deeper explanation, go dig up some dirt on Genius.

“This Could Never Work,” Is What We Said at First

Eminem goes into relationship issues once again on this track. This time it’s from a different perspective than Recovery’s “Love the Way You Lie” though. There’s no such thing as pure black and white in this world. This applies to unfaithfulness as well. Marshall tries to portray how people could be stuck in a relationship that’s not going anywhere, and how having something on the side could have more true love than anything.

You’re laying there with him, thinking ’bout me
He’s asleep, you say, “Let’s meet around three”
You went to leave the house, he caught you sneaking out, now he’s freaking out
You thought he was sleepin’ soundly, woah
You say you’re going for a drive, you don’t question him
When he stumbles in, like, “Where the fuck you’ve been?”
Then you pump his ear with what he wants to hear
Tell him you love him, yeah, wipe each other’s tears
But it’s been a couple years since we been doin’ dirt
You or my girl, don’t wanna see either of you get hurt
But now the lines are getting super blurred
Can’t tell if I’m cheating on her with you or cheating on you with her
But really, nobody’s at fault, can’t help who you love

And I love how he plays with Long John Silver in this part. Lyrical gems:

We’re laying here with them, thinking ’bout us
‘Cause now when we get home, we get jealous
Of each other being someone else’s
Call us Long John Silver’s ’cause we selfish

Is it “sell fish” or “cell fish”? Sometimes I can’t even tell anymore what’s intentional and what’s not in his rhymes.

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From Rap God to Godzilla

Eminem’s stomping on civilians in this track, not just lyrically, but with fire-blazing fast killer wordplay that surpasses Rap God’s performance and sets another world record. I almost pictured Godzilla from the 1998 film while listening to this massacre.

Trigger happy, pack heat, but it’s black ink
Evil half of the Bad Meets
Evil, that means take a back seat
Take it back to Fat Petes with a maxi, single
Look at my rap sheets, what attracts these people
Is my gangster, bitch, like Apache with a catchy jingle
I stack chips, you barely got a half-eaten Cheeto
Fill ’em with the venom and eliminate ’em
Other words, I Minute Maid ’em
I don’t want to hurt ’em, but I did ’em in a fit of rage
I’m murderin’ again, nobody will evade him
Finna kill ’em and dump all the fuckin’ bodies in the lake
Obliterating everything, incinerate and renegade ’em
And I make anybody who want it with the pen afraid
But don’t nobody want it, but they’re gonna get it anyway
‘Cause I’m beginnin’ to feel like I’m mentally ill
I’m Atilla, kill or be killed, I’m a killer, be the vanilla gorilla
You’re bringin’ the killer within me out of me
You don’t want to be the enemy of the demon who went in me
Or being the recievin’ enemy, what stupidity it’d be
Every bit of me is the epitome of a spitter
When I’m in the vicinity, motherfucker, you better duck
Or you finna be dead the minute you run into me
A hundred percent of you is a fifth of a percent of me
I’m ’bout to fuckin’ finish you bitch, I’m unfadable
You wanna battle, I’m available, I’m blowin’ up like an inflatable
I’m undebatable, I’m unavoidable, I’m unevadable
I’m on the toilet bowl, I got a trailer full of money and I’m paid in full
I’m not afraid to pull the—
Man, stop
Look what I’m plannin’, haha

Deeammmnnn boy, please don’t stop. Don’t be afraid to pull whatever yous was gonna pull… Shiiiitttt 😂

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I Don’t Wanna Be Alone in the Darkness

Here I am, alone again
Can’t get out of this hole I’m in
It’s like the walls are closin’ in
You can’t help me, no one can
I can feel these curtains closin’
I go to open ’em
But something pulls ’em closed again

This will probably be my favorite song off the album. It’s personal like it was left off Revival and impersonal, speaking on touching issues of society. Comparing one experience and emotions with another. All bound together in the darkness. It’s a perfect cocktail. A venomous cocktail contained with pain and rage and desperation.

I would argue that this song is a new version of Stan, except instead of two people communicating by facsimile, it’s two people communicating within one single experience of going through pain. The Vegas shooter and Eminem are one and he tries to crawl into his skin and understand his emotion through this song.

I keep pacin’ this room valium
Then chase it with booze, one little taste it’ll do
Maybe I’ll take it and snooze, then tear up the stage in a few
Fuck the Colt 45, I’ma need somethin’ stronger
If I pop any caps, it better be off of vodka
Round after round after round, I’m gettin’ loaded
That’s a lot of shots, huh?

Eminem’s getting loaded with booze, preparing for a show, while the Vegas shooter is getting loaded with his ammo. A true poet at work here. I was perplexed as I was listening…

That’s when you know you’re schizo
(Hello darkness, my old friend)
‘Cause I keep peakin’ out the curtain from the hotel
The music is so loud, but it’s almost as though
I don’t hear no sound, I should get ready for the show now
Wait is this the whole crowd? I thought this shit was sold out
(Hello darkness, my old friend)
But it’s only the opening act, it’s early, don’t overreact
Then something told me relax and just hope for the show to be packed
Don’t wanna hit the stage before they fill each row to the max
‘Cause that’d be totally wacked, you can’t murder a show nobody’s at
But what if nobody shows?
Panic mode ’bout to snap and go motherfuckin’ wacko at any second
‘Bout to cancel the show, just as fans below rush the entrance

I love this part. It shows to us that Eminem is a person, just like anyone of us, and he’s nervous before a show. He’s afraid he won’t get that same reaction from a crowd. He’s afraid that he’s fading out. He’s an artist and he always wants to perform the best he can. Give it all out on the stage. Murder a show. But how can you murder a show nobody’s at? It’s almost unbelievable that an artist of his caliber would be going through such thoughts. But this is true. This is the true Marshall.

Plan is a go to wreck shit, cameras in all directions
The press is about to go ape shit bananas on all the networks
Commando with extra clips, I got ammo for all the hecklers
I’m armed to the teeth, another valium fall off the bed
Fall off the bed, hit the ground and crawl to the dresser
Alcohol on my breath as I reach for the scope
I’m blackin’ out, I’m all out of meds
With them benzodiazepines gone
Now it’s just magazines sprawled out on the floor
Fuck the media, I’m goin’ all out, this is war
(Hello darkness, my old friend)

These are the last hours before the show and before the shooting. Tension’s beginning to spiral. Eminem continues getting loaded with meds and alcohol while the Vegas shooter reaches for his scope. Fuck the media, they’re going all out, this is war!

See Pictures of Eminem's “Music To Be Murdered By” Album CD And Booklet

With People start to show up, time to start the show up
It’s 10:05 PM and the curtain starts to go up
And I’m already sweatin’ but I’m locked and loaded
For rapid fire spittin’ for all the concert-goers
Scopes for sniper vision, surprise from out of nowhere
As I slide the clip in from inside the hotel
Leanin’ out the window, going Kaiser Sosay
Finger on the trigger, but I’m a licensed owner
With no prior convictions, so loss, the sky’s the limit
So my supplies infinite, strapped like I’m a soldier
Got ’em hopping over walls and climbing fences
Some of them John Travolta, staying alive by inches
Cops are knockin’, oh, fuck, thought I blocked the entrance

Here we see Eminem firing at his show with firearms from small to large caliber, assault to sniper rifles to heavy machine guns, you can almost see him jumping on stage and spewing fire from his mouth through the microphone. He’s killin but some of them John Travolta, staying alive by inches, while the Vegas shooter finishes them all off and leaves a scene of bloody massacre.

And after it’s all said and done…

Fing Guess show time is over no suicide note
Just a note for target distance
But if you’d like to know the reason why I did this
You’ll never find a motive, truth is I have no idea
I am just as stumped, no signs of mental illness
Just tryin’ to show ya the reason why we’re so fucked
‘Cause by the time it’s over, won’t make the slightest difference
(Hello darkness, my old friend)

Nobody knows our true motives but ourselves. But sometimes even we struggle to figure it out. The true motives of the Vegas shooter are gone with him to the grave. But I think this song gives you a bright picture of what he might have been going through.

I don’t wanna be alone in the darkness
I don’t wanna be alone in the darkness anymore…

No Coming Back From Where I’m Going… Dig With the Blade Up

This is my second favorite track. Naghh. It ain’t even second. They go in line. And it’s hard to put in words what emotions you are filled with while you’re listening, but I’ll try. This one’s another golden gem.

Call me the Grim Reaper, sleep is my cousin
You dead to me now and I’ma be the last face you see
‘Fore you die cussin’

At first, you don’t know who he’s talking to, but that’s the beauty of it all.

Like around six thousand times since I was a kid
As a child, picked on, clowned
Countless times I’ve been outed
Gotta remind myself of it every now and then (Yeah)
So the route I went’s self-empowerment
In a hole, taught myself how to get out of it
And balance it with talents, wit
‘Cause life is like a penny (Life is like a penny)
‘Cause it’s only one percent
Who overcome the shit
They’ve underwent

Telegraph says about Eminem’s album “Music To Be Murdered By”: “so lethally brilliant it should be a crime”

You would think he told this story over and over again throughout his career, but this time he is not telling it to you.

Okay, so while Macklemore was keeping his room nice and neat (Yeah)
I was getting my ass beat twice a week (What?)
Looking for a place for the night where I could sleep
Flippin’ sofa cushions over just tryin’ to see
If I could find some change and scrape up for a bite to eat
If Denaun and me find a couple dimes a piece
Twenty five cents each’d get us a bag of chips
We’d be glad to get that even we if we had to split
We’d do backward flips, looking back at it
I think that would fit with the definition of not having shit

The way he tells the story is so vivid, you almost feel like you’re reliving it together with him. This only happens when you are dealing with a true artist. Like Rakim once told in an interview, he grew up listening to Jazz and Blues music, and a lot of didn’t have no words, but you could feel and see it. You could smell the grass, you could imagine a silent night or the loud neighbors across the street, or your mom’s best dish cooking on the stove. Rakim would then say that his motivation would be to create the same experience using words. This is what we see in this song.

Should I feel upset? You were dead to me ‘fore you died
Me? Tear no shed
Should I have made a mural at your funeral?
Had your coffin draped with a hero’s flag?
Where the fuck you were at
When De’Angelo done hurt me real bad at the Rio Grande?
Never met your grandkids, fucking coward
Only gut you had was from your stomach fat
I couldn’t see your ass gonna Heaven
So I’m asking for a pass to go to Hell
So I can whip your fucking ass
I hate that I’ll never get to say “I hate you” to your face
No coming back from where I’m going
Sky is dark, my soul is black, hand on the shovel
Dig with the blade up, and then I step on the metal
Vendetta to settle, tell the Devil
I’m leaving Heaven Yeah…

Now you see why he was painting it so vivid. This whole storytelling is meant for his father. This is Marshall finally saying all he wanted to say. This is him finally letting it out fully. And this is him letting it go:

You know, I should dig your motherfucking ass up
Just to spit in your fucking face
Holding my baby pictures up like you’re proud of me
Fuck you, bitch
You know what? Maybe if I had had you
I wouldn’t have went through half the shit I went through, so I blame you
Or maybe I should say, “Thank you”
‘Cause I wouldn’t have been me
So I’ma let it go now, rest in peace
See you in Hell.

Final Killshot at the Grave

We can see Marshall putting the last nail in the coffin for a lot of characters throughout the album. Here’s what I most liked about the entertaining “Yah Yah” track:

I’m a sight to see, but you can see from the ring I’m wearing
Me and this game, we got married already
Had the prenup ready, fuck, all that’s ever seen her belly
She barely was three months pregnant
Bitch had to give me a baby, we named it Machine Gun Kelly

And as you could see from MGK’s pathetic reaction to these lines on social media, they hurt pretty bad. Now, Machine Gun Kelly is no longer named after a murderous gangster. He’s named after a premature birth-giving act: as soon as he sprayed fast outta mom’s belly, they called him Machine Gun Kelly.

My Name Is Marsh and, I’m Out This World

Sorry, it’s getting fucking late and I’ve still haven’t gone on some ccommodating, so Ima skip some tracks and try to end this on a high note. I leaving some space for you to do some grave digging of your own. Let’s move on, cause

My name is Marsh and, I’m out this world (This world)
S on my chest (Superman) like it’s plural (It’s lit)
Call me extra, extra terrestrial
Extra, extra, extra terrestrial

I fucking love this chorus. 😂 Put it on repeat. 😂 Daaaeeemnnn… where should I start?

My girl’s cheatin’, I’m kickin’ that fuckin’ bitch to the curb
But the word “fuckin'” ain’t meant to be a descriptive word
The type of bitch she is ain’t no adjective, it’s a verb
Ho thinks her snatch is magical but that’s how she attracts men
And who traps ’em and attack similar to an actual arachnid
Or a vaginal tarantula or black widow
In fact it’ll be nothing to throw that lil’ Bitch
With a capital B at the back window out the black Cadillac limo like a whack demo
When I’m strapped, when I spit rapid, like a ratchet
I have wit, Been fire bitch, I can’t outrap Reynolds

There aint a fucking descriptive word of how he’s masterful with these slurs. This portion shows exactly how he’s good with alliteration and consonance. It makes his wordplay seem like he’s juggling 50 objects at the same time when you hear him spit.

This whole track reminds me of the Relapse album… This is Slim Shady in his purest form:

Checked in at the Royal Garden
To chill and avoid my problems
Until paranoia caused me to feel like I’m going bonkers
For real, think my toilet’s talkin’
I spilled like, like forty bottles of pills
Think your boy is startin’ to feel like a spoiled carton of milk …
A pad and pen’ll be great, but a napkin’ll do
Return of the whack sicko
Head spinnin’ like Invisibl Skratch Piklz
Yeah, Shady’s back, see the bat signal
It’s time to go bat shit, like you accidentally ate a Louisville slugger and crapped it
I’d like to introduce myself
Hi there, bitch…

From No Apologies to No Regrets: Nothings Changed

This reminds me of that track from “The Re-Up” album called No Apologies. It was my favorite track off that album, and this just takes me back to the good old days and the not so good old days for Shady.

Yeah, they miss the old me
I think they want me to OD on codeine
They want my life in turmoil like in ’03
They want front row seats, I give ’em nosebleeds
They want me imploding, exploding, self-loathing, eroding
I’m screaming at ’em with no regrets and I’m hulking
I’m rippin’ out of my clothing
I had to go see the doc like Kool Moe Dee (Yeah)
Never took much to convince Dre
Never been swayed by color or skin shades
Since day one, Hellraiser with twin blades of a sensei
Givin’ up, no comprende (Woo)
Tin brain, prolly fucked in the membrane
Slim Sha- minds of a God, I been insane

Yeah the rage and the hate, and the vengeful emotion always makes a powerful song. That’s why we love vintage shady so much. But I love the new Shady as well. He did not get old, he just evolved.

They talk about my daughters hopin’ I fly off of the handle
‘Cause my first thought is to trample and write a thousand bars
But sometimes it’s like dropping’ an anvil on a house of cards
Or Godzilla squashin’ a crouton with combat boots on
Or droppin’ a goddamn nuke bomb on top of an ant hill
(I’m screamin’ out no regrets) Can’t do it, nah

Sometimes you just flying too low for Shady’s radar. Yeah, and these words are not just the final nail in a coffin, this is the final stone to Marshall’s Necropolis.

This Concludes Our Danse Macabre

Final words. The album is a work of art, its poetry in motion, and it’s written, composed and presented in such a way that you can almost mistake it for prose. I was just as fascinated listening to Music to Be Murdered By as I am when I’m reading a 600-page novel. It’s that much dense with content. Fuck all of you who think that reading develops more intelligence than listening to music. The medium of telling stories has been evolving throughout history. From our ancestors telling tales while sitting and glancing at the fire to Shakespeare’s tragedies like Hamlet and Othello, to motion pictures plunging us into a whirlwind of emotions when we see the actors perform on screen.

Eminem has become the medium of overcoming struggle against all odds and of the eternal fight for your dreams and beliefs. In Music to Be Murdered By we see the incarnation of a murderous MC, ripping and tearing apart his adversaries in healthy competition. For that is forever been the essence of Hip-Hop – competition. Whether it’s through freestyle battling, or just constantly retaining the throne at the top of the game.

This concludes our danse macabre
Portions of the proceeding were recorded
As for the rest of it, I’m very much afraid it was all in your mind
I don’t intend to indulge in any post-mortem
If you haven’t been murdered, I can only say
Better luck next time
If you have been, goodnight wherever you are.

If this won’t get the best hip-hop album of the year, I see no future for modern hip-hop.

And yeah, beware if you are still alive, cause I bet there’s more music to be murdered by.

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