In the ever-evolving tapestry of hip-hop, where beefs flare up like summer wildfires and collaborations redefine genres, moments of unfiltered reverence stand out like rare gems. Enter Ty Dolla $ign, the Los Angeles-bred crooner whose silky hooks and boundary-blurring beats have made him a staple on tracks from Kanye West’s Vultures to Post Malone’s pop-rap anthems. With a discography that spans sultry R&B confessions and gritty street tales, Ty has long been the go-to voice for emotional depth amid chaos. But in a recent interview with DJ Whoo Kid on SiriusXM’s Shade 45—Eminem’s own radio empire—no one expected him to drop a bombshell of admiration that reignites the GOAT debate and reminds us why Marshall Mathers remains rap’s North Star.
The sit-down, which aired in late October 2025, was billed as a casual catch-up on Ty’s latest ventures, including his contributions to the ongoing Vultures saga and whispers of a solo follow-up to 2023’s Ty Dolla $ign. Hosted by Whoo Kid, the veteran DJ known for his unhinged energy and bootleg kingpin past, the conversation meandered through Ty’s influences, from D’Angelo’s velvet falsettos to Lady Gaga’s theatrical flair, even touching on tense run-ins with 50 Cent. But when Whoo Kid steered toward Eminem—fitting, given Shade 45’s Shady roots—the room crackled with electricity. Ty, leaning back with that signature laid-back grin, didn’t just praise; he eulogized, pulling from a well of fandom that’s simmered for over a decade.
“Back in the day, I tweeted it, and I’ll never forget it because I actually stand on it and believe it,” Ty began, his voice steady amid Whoo Kid’s hyped interjections. “The only rapper better than Eminem is Slim Shady.” The line landed like a mic drop, echoing a 2020 viral tweet where Ty first floated the idea, but this time, it carried the weight of lived experience. Whoo Kid, chuckling, pressed for more, and Ty obliged with a dissection of Em’s unparalleled storytelling. “Name somebody who made a better song than ‘Stan.’ Like, writing, making people cry, changing people’s lives,” he challenged, his eyes lighting up as if reliving the track’s rainy-night dread. It’s a bold swing in an era where TikTok snippets and trap beats dominate, but Ty’s not alone in this reverence—Drake, Kendrick Lamar, and even Snoop Dogg have nodded to Em’s blueprint. For Ty, though, it’s personal: Eminem’s raw vulnerability mirrors his own lyrical confessions of love, loss, and redemption.
This isn’t Ty’s first rodeo with Em idolatry. Flash back to December 2020, amid the pandemic’s haze, when Ty sat for Hot Freestyle and doubled down: “He’s the GOAT for sure… What up, Em? Holla at me.” That plea wasn’t empty; it manifested in 2020’s “Favorite Bitch” from Music to Be Murdered By – Side B, a surprise drop where Ty’s hazy croons laced Em’s punchy bars on fleeting flings and fleeting fame. Eminem later revealed the collab’s origin on Shade 45: Ty “pops up on my YouTube feed a lot,” thanks to his Kanye-assisted “Ye vs. the People,” which hooked Em’s curiosity. “I was looking for a singer,” Em admitted, crediting Kanye’s co-sign as the spark. For Ty, it was validation—a bridge from fanboy dreams to studio synergy.
Ty’s admiration runs deeper than features. Raised in South Central LA, where gangsta rap’s grit clashed with R&B’s soul, he found solace in Eminem’s The Marshall Mathers LP. “I always looked up to him,” Ty confessed in the Whoo Kid chat, grouping Em with life-altering architects like Ice Cube’s “It Was a Good Day” and The Beatles’ timeless anthems. “There are songs that change lives,” he mused, drawing parallels to how “Stan” weaponized obsession into catharsis, much like Ty’s own “Or Nah” turned bedroom bravado into a cultural earworm. It’s no coincidence; Ty’s style—part Nate Dogg heir, part modern melancholist—echoes Em’s collaborators. Snoop Dogg once dubbed Ty the “reincarnation” of Nate, who laced classics like “Shake That,” and Em’s ear for melodic anchors made their pairing inevitable.
The interview’s viral ripple hit X like a Shady diss track. HotNewHipHop clipped the Slim Shady line, racking up thousands of views: “The only rapper better than Eminem is Slim Shady” 🔥👀. Brazilian fan page Marshall Mathers Brasil translated it verbatim, igniting global threads: “O único rapper melhor que o Eminem é o Slim Shady.” The Eminem Bible amplified the full quote, with users debating if Ty’s take settles the GOAT convo or just fans the flames. One X user tied it to broader homage: “They all show love… Drake called Eminem the greatest MC to ever grace a mic, Ty Dolla $ign just said… legends do.” Even in 2025’s fractured rap landscape—post-Drake-Kendrick wars, with AI ghostwriting whispers—Ty’s words cut through, validating Em’s stats: 220 million albums sold, 66 million singles, and a Rock & Roll Hall induction that cements his icon status.
Whoo Kid’s role amplified the moment. As Em’s onetime bootleg nemesis turned ally—Em once joked Whoo Kid leaked tracks “before I even record them”—the DJ’s platform lent authenticity. The interview veered hilariously off-script, with Ty recounting 50 Cent’s shade during a session (“He was like, ‘You sing too much'”) and Gaga’s diva demands, but Eminem anchored the soul. It’s a full-circle nod: Whoo Kid’s Whoolywood days birthed underground buzz, much like Em’s infinite freestyle cyphers did for Detroit. Ty, ever the connector, bridges eras—his Featuring Ty Dolla $ign (2020) boasted Nicki Minaj and Travis Scott, yet craved Em’s edge.
Critics might eye-roll at another “Em is GOAT” chorus, but Ty’s lens is fresh. As a Black artist thriving in R&B-rap hybrids, his endorsement dismantles gatekeeping narratives. Eminem, the white interloper who faced Melle Mel’s barbs, proved authenticity trumps origin—Ty gets that, weaving similar tales of addiction and fatherhood in cuts like “Solid.” Their shared sobriety journeys add layers; Ty’s clean since 2019, Em a decade ahead, turning pain into platinum.
As 2025 closes, with Em teasing The Death of Slim Shady tours and Ty eyeing Vultures 3, this love letter feels timely. In a genre chasing virality, Ty’s tribute hails the slow-burn masters. “He changed lives,” Ty reiterated, a mantra for why “Stan” streams billions. Watch the comments erupt—fans dissecting bars, foes stirring pots—but Ty’s clear: Slim Shady’s shadow looms eternal. In hip-hop’s hall of fame, some flames never dim.
