conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Write me a song called Book of Rhymes with the following description: On a track with production by common collaborator IllaDaProducer, Eminem raps about getting all his thoughts off of his mind and pad, both literally and figuratively. The song, accompanied by scratches from DJ Premier, who most notably, did work on Nas' ‘N.Y. State of Mind’ and Biggies ‘Ten Crack Commandments,’ is the 5th off of his B-Side Deluxe cut of Music to Be Murdered By.
  This song also plays off the title of the Alchemist produced ‘Book of Rhymes’ of Nas' God’s Son. There is also a likely sample of the Nas song in the end in the DJ Premier mixing part towards the end of the song.
  He raps about how he still has more to give in the rap game and the effect of the internet, and how people think he has gone “off the rails”. We see hints of the old Em, with references to his ex-wife, Kim.
  The song’s hook is also a direct reference to the beginning of his verse on Lil Wayne’s “Drop The World”, where he raps
  Your days are numbered like pages in
  My book of rhymes; got ‘em cookin’, boy Make sure the lyrics are different from the original song.
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: [Intro]
  I don't smile, I don't frown, get too up or get too down (Nah)
  I was here, so were you, you came and went, I stuck around (Yeah)
  Still here now, stop me how? Your opinion's like a broken calculator
  That shit doesn't count
  Shut your motherfuckin' mouth
  [Chorus]
  I'm emptyin' (I'm emptyin') my book of rhymes (My book of rhymes)
  Get 'em all off my pad, every thought that I had
  I said I'm emptyin' (I'm emptyin') my book of rhymes (My book of rhymes)
  Get 'em all off my pad (Yeah), every thought that I had (I'm eastside)
  [Verse 1]
  Haven't used all the tricks I have, so like my balls, I'm in my bag (My bag)
  Get a littlе teste when I'm mad (I'm mad), sick of wrеstling this iPad (iPad)
  Unsuccessfully, I might add (Might add)
  And I know it's best to leave it lie
  But even I get obsessed with reading everything
  And let it get the best of me 'til I snap ('Til I snap)
  But I need to get off the internet (Get off the internet)
  I need to get on the mic (Get on the mic)
  You need to get off the internet (Internet)
  You need to get you a life
  Why you waste time just to comment on shit? (Comment on shit)
  Especially shit you don't like (Shit you don't like)
  Don't like it, don't listen, but don't tell me 'bout your favorite rapper rippin' some shit he didn't write (Shit he didn't write)
  What happened to Slim? He was no cap with the pen
  He used to rap like the people his music was for
  He was exactly like them
  The dude who used to be poor, why can't he tap into him?
  Can't use that excuse anymore
  He's mad at the wind, he's in a nuclear war
  With a cloud, he's yellin' at it again
  I talked to your mother, she told me she loved me
  All she wanna do is just hold me and hug me
  Wants nobody but me, she showed me the Dougie
  Can I get a witness like notary public? (Preach)
  She said, "Kick some fly shit" (Fly shit)
  I said, "I got wings on my ass" (Wings on my ass)
  Told her my dick's a cockpit (Dick's a cockpit)
  I fly by the seat of my pants (Seat of my pants)
  Sinful thoughts, 
  this beat is crazy, this shit's retarded
  This instru's mental (This instru's mental) to mini-bars, incidental charges
  When did it start? I been cold-hearted in this heart since kindergarten
  Mental sharpness which makes Slim a walking dentist office, bitch, I invented flossin'
  Yeah, I used to wonder (I used to wonder) where my next meal's gonna come from (Meal's gonna come from)
  Now, I just wonder (Now I just wonder) where my next mill's gonna come from (Mill's gonna come from)
  I cannot have no success (Have no success), unless when I finally make it (Finally make it)
  I get to remind all the haters (Remind all the haters) who shitted on me when I'm on my way up (I'm on my way)
  My floor is y'all fool's ceilings
  If I was you, I would step or find yourself twisted
  That's how you'll wind up like spiral stairs
  I will swear on a stack of Bibles
  I will tear new behinds out of rivals, even your idols, I don't care
  It's 
  Music to Be Murdered By
  , so Bon Iver can swallow a fuckin' Ja Rule bobblehead
  And die slow like Alzheimer's (Ha-ha)
  Lone sniper, I hold a microphone like a loaded rifle
  My dome's brighter, all I spit from my skull's fire
  All that's missing's a motorcycle with the chrome wires, spoke tires
  And y'all are flow biters, so I don't gotta
  Explain why they call me your ghostwriter [Chorus]
  I'm emptyin' (I'm emptyin') my book of rhymes (My book of rhymes)
  Get 'em all off my pad, every thought that I had
  I said I'm emptyin' (I'm emptyin') my book of rhymes (My book of rhymes)
  Get 'em all off my pad, every thought that I had (
  Illa
  )
  [Verse 2]
  Haven't used all the tricks I have, so like my balls, it's in my bag
  I tend to get a little testy when I'm mad
  But gift of gab and pen to pad turn temper tantrums into anthems
  Put lips to ass and kiss the cracks, spit your damnedest
  You're still gonna hit the canvas
  Rippin' rappers, veterans to whippersnappers
  Mr. Mathers is killin' this shit, villainous wit with scant less
  Syllables rip the planet, biblical shit's finna hit the fan
  Anybody wanna go tit for tat's gonna get hit with that
  Then the amygdala hippocampus is gonna trigger the ignoramus
  To think of the most ridiculous shit to spit then
  Pit it against these pitiful rappers
  Insidious, these idiots wittiest shit against me shitty as MC Hammer's
  Get your whole squad, send a task force in
  If you want it, you're 'bout to get what you asked for then
  Put your helmet on, strap your chin
  You're 'bout to get you a crash course in
  Who not to start a motherfuckin' rap war with
  Or to go against, fuck would you wanna do that for?
  No offense, but are you retards slow or dense?
  A fuckin' penny has more sense
  Yeah, now you gotta get killed, but it's not a big deal, but every thought is so ill
  And so methodical, thought I swallowed a pill
  I'm starting to feel like I'm an automobile
  With Barnacle Bill inside the car at the wheel
  Inside a carnival, 'cause I'm plowin' into everyone who wrote snidey articles
  And that explains why the fuck you clowns are all in my grill
  Joy and pain, fortune, fame, torture, shame, choice I made
  Swore someday the world would pay less to lose, more to gain, daughters raised
  Yesterday, glory days, adored and praised, ignored the hate
  Addressed the fake, toured with Dre, tore a page from Jordan came
  Destroyed the game before you came, enjoy your stay
  Before it's gone away, but the more you claim that you're gonna point and aim
  If it joined a gang, your shit isn't going to bang
  You're just boring, lame and more of the same
  You have an enormous chain, but a stormless brain
  The most you can form is rain
  Your shit is pointless, same as a scoreless game
  So, bitch, quit lyin', you're denyin' like Mr. Porter's name (Haha)
  Borderline bipolar disorder
   since my stroller
  Eyes rollin' back in my skull like Eli Porter
  Fire mortar (Brr) rounds, Ayatollah, every iota I load up
  I owe to my motor mouth
  This is my note to self
  Sometimes you're gonna bomb
  So you just might have to blow yourself up with no one's help
  I just wrote it down in my book of rhymes
  Preemo, take us out [Outro]
  Writin' in my book of rhymes
  My book of rhymes, my book of rhymes
  I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm eastside
  Writin' in my book of rhymes
  My book of rhymes, my book of rhymes
  I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm eastside