I Sold My House To Become The New Eminem

LISTEN TO THIS ARTICLE! (NOT BECAUSE YOU’RE ILLITERATE OR ANYTHING)

I just reverse mortgaged my house, why you might ask? To become the next Eminem.

Me the next Slim Shady?

Yeah, ok I was 12 when The Slim Shady LP dropped, my pregnant teacher waddling around the room trying to take it from me. I said “bitch you lay hands on my Walkman and I will beat you like Dr. Dre!”.

This of course got me in trouble, double detention. What do I give a fuck though, my stepdad just had chores for me that day.

Jokes on you, I won’t be home to do the dishes!

Rebel without a cause, check

Hardass rappers like myself don’t care what the world thinks. We’re rebels. Smoking cigarettes near no smoking signs. Littering on no littering signs. Breaking curfew. I’ve done it all. Been sent away to live with my biological dad and never get an education. Picked a fight at McDonalds. Hated another kid. Felt my girlfriend’s friend’s boobs when she was in the bathroom.

I AM A MOTHERFUCKIN RAPPER SON!

The OG?! Try KING G!

Can you believe it!? That’s right; that shit right there is a motherfucking rap record. That’s why I mortgaged my house.

I got all kinds of real life stories ripped straight from the streets. Other people think they’re OG but when they see me they call me King G. Not my full name, of course not.

G does not stand for Groundhog Day or God or Godzilla or God. It does however stand for Greatness, and sometimes Google.

If you say ‘garbage’ then I’ll have to beat you like Dr. Dre! That is assuming you’re a woman. Dr. Dre can only fight women and when it comes to men he has to use a gun. He keeps several uzis on his belt that he uses to open beers with. He’s a fucking hardass thug like me.

Gang life is my life

It doesn’t take a genius to understand I run with gangs all night long. They’re all fighting over whether I should lead them to greatness or not but I’m declining the role.

I’ve got some rap songs to write.

Like this time when I worked at McDonalds I had to work on the weekend so I put my shoes in the fryer. Man that place stunk. We got out of work early and my stupid stepdad had to let me play Soul Calibur all afternoon. Hahah, you’re not my real dad fuck face.

Fuck the police!

Real rebels like me are always getting in trouble with the cops. They know I’m in gangs and I’m usually smoking spliffs of Combodian jungle weed that gives me the edge I need to take on busters and house the Wack MCs. Yeah you know I ain’t no wack MC with my dick hanging out of my pants at church.

My hair’s pulled back tight like 50 Cent’s which looks bad ass in a biker hat. Speaking of bikers, those clothes are expensive. Yeah black onyx, size small.

Big boy pants

When it’s time for one of my dope speeches to rile up these dipshits in the audience, I drop my pants take a fucking shit right on stage. Yeah I am just like the real Eminem now, incontinent! Take that you fucking bitches! Now I drop the mic.

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Soybaby

Writer/Editor. Drinker of Soy. Eater of Soy. Lover of Soy. Don't judge.