In 2009, Eminem released Relapse, a hectic carnival ride of an album through his sinister sense of humor. A bulk of the album was recorded from the perspective of a serial killer and filled with goofy accents, vivid gore, and enough rape jokes to make Daniel Tosh blush.
Following the album's release, Em promised fans a sequel, appropriately titled Relapse 2, but ultimately, the album was scrapped in favor of Recovery, on which he rapped about pummeling his painful pill affair and screamed motivational anthems like a rap game Sam Kinison to the point of laryngitis.
You could easily make the argument Relapse is the weakest chapter in Slim’s discography. Even Eminem hates Relapse. On Recovery, he bashed the album multiple times, including these jaded, dismissive bars on "Cinderella Man": “Fuck my last CD that shit's in my trash.”
A rapper who hates their own album is like a parent who hates their own child—totally understandable and extremely common. But Eminem talks about Relapse with the detached bitterness of an angry ex-girlfriend on her fifth brunch mimosa.
I used to think Relapse 2 was a non-existent project that simply morphed into Recovery. But in an interview earlier this year, 50 Cent claimed that Relapse 2 is indeed a real thing that really exists... that's locked away in Eminem’s vault.
I’m the worlds biggest stan, and I’ll always love Eminem even though his beard makes him look like one of my Italian aunts. For years, I've searched the shadowy recesses of the dark web for Relapse 2 like a redneck looking for Bigfoot. Hell, I once pitched Animal Planet on a reality show entitled Finding Relapse 2.
Needless to say, learning Relapse 2 actually exists was like finding out Gilbert Gottfried has a sex tape. You know it’ll be deeply disturbing and you probably won’t like it... but you still kinda wanna check it out.
Yes, I understand there’s no real demand for a Relapse 2, but personally, I want to hear this damn album. But as 50 said, Eminem has no plans to release Relapse 2. So it looks like I'm gonna have to take matters into my own hands.
That’s right. I’m going to pull off the world’s greatest heist: I’m going to steal a copy of Relapse 2 from Eminem’s home studio in Detroit. And then disappear into the night.
As we all know from every heist movie ever made, you can’t pull off a heist alone. Which is why I've put together a team.
First, there’s Ron, an ex-con who did 15 years in prison for a bank robbery; he’s my right-hand man. Ok, it wasn’t 15 years, it was just a $75 fine, and it wasn’t a bank robbery, it was a parking ticket, but let’s not get hung up on semantics.
Then there’s my friend Xavier, my tech guy. He’s an expert hacker who once hacked into my Facebook in 2009 and posted “I HAVE A SMALL DICK!” This guy is the real deal.
There’s also Johnny, the getaway driver. He has no experience but he’s seen Baby Driver like nine times and he feels pretty confident about this.
And finally, Nick Cannon, who was once married to Mariah Carey and is still salty about the shots Eminem took on "The Warning."
Oh, and there’s also my friend Jessica, who’s mostly joining us just so it’s not a sausage fest.
As for my plan, it's flawless. I’m going to call Eminem pretending to be a Hollywood agent who wants to fly him out for an important meeting in Los Angeles. I’ll tell him that I wanna discuss a film called 7 Mile, an 8 Mile prequel that is a deep dive into his mom cooking the spaghetti.
Once Eminem is in LA for our non-existent meeting, I will sneak into his house. My boy Xavier will deactivate the security system. And it’s not unfathomable to think there could be guards, but I will cunningly knock them out with skills I learned from a Taekwondo class I took in a strip mall.
BOOM, we’re inside Shady’s house.
I'll shuffle through my blueprints trying to pinpoint his studio, Ron will put black tape over the surveillance cameras, Jessica will stand at the window keeping guard, and Nick Cannon will loudly complain he has nothing to do and doesn’t feel useful, but I'll tell him to calm down and stop wild 'n out.
Once we locate the studio—of course, it will be in the basement—we’ll identify the computer containing the hard drive that contains the unreleased album and easily login using the shockingly easy password “password.”
What the fuck were you thinking, Marshall?
We’ll scan all his digital documents and locate the .zip file for Relapse 2. Easy enough. Once that's done, I'll take out a blank CD-R disc I was hiding in an uncomfortable, undisclosed location and burn Relapse 2 onto the disc. Then I’ll give the disc to Ron to put in his backpack. He’ll say something like, “Why did you have to hide the CD in your ass when I have a backpack?” But there’s no time to answer.
We'll swiftly exit the house without leaving a trace and hop into the getaway van, driving off into the sunset but visibly disappointed that we never got a chance to use our grappling hooks.
Oh shit. Halfway through our drive home, we'll remember we forgot Nick Cannon. Oh well.
Now back at my apartment, I'll rip the album onto my computer and liberate this forgotten project for free on SoundCloud. You’re welcome, America.
Eminem, a renowned technology savant, will be baffled over Relapse 2 hitting the internet, never knowing that it was I who masterminded its unearthing.
Once Em returns to his Detroit mansion, he’ll see that I left him a note. A calling card, if you will. He’ll pick up the note and read it.
“Don’t make Revival 2.”