No. 3: Eminem

Sometime around 2003 or 2004, just before Encore came out, I said that Marshall Mathers was one or two more solid albums away from making himself a slam-dunk choice for the greatest emcee of all time.

Things don't always work out the way you think they will.

Though he's still undoubtedly the best of the 21st century, Eminem falls just short of the top spot overall because, fair or not, he hasn't been able to continue clearing the incredibly high bar he set for himself. He's without question the most talented rapper ever — but most talented and greatest aren't necessarily the same thing (insert LeBron James reference here).

Before he signed with Aftermath and became the best-selling rapper in the world, Em was an underground battle phenomenon who suffered debatable losses to Juice in the 1997 Scribble Jam and Rap Olympics finals. At the latter event, his second indie album, The Slim Shady EP, got passed to Interscope's Jimmy Iovine.

You all know the rest.

The Slim Shady LP — which reworked some of the songs from the EP and added some more shock-value material — put Em on the mainstream map for good. Sporting a blond dye job, he erases nearly a decade of post-Vanilla Ice backlash and helps hip-hop formally complete its takeover of white America.

Eminem didn't fully hit his stride, though, until the following year, when The Marshall Mathers LP came out. The album is Em at his absolute peak lyrically and showcases an improved delivery. There's still the over-the-top cartoonish stuff on songs like "Kill You" and "Criminal" — but he also shows a more serious side in between those two bookends. "Stan" was — before the radio beat it to death — a chilling exchange with an overzealous fan, and "Kim," the prequel to his EP song "Just The Two Of Us," remains the anthem for any guy who's ever been screwed over by a significant other.

Warning...this shit gone be rated R restricted...

The darker side of Em took over almost completely on both the D12 debut Devil's Night and his third solo effort, The Eminem Show, which was a slight step back content-wise but still a massive commercial success. The drop-off in lyricism was somewhat balanced by a continued improvement in delivery, which can be heard almost right away on "White America" and "Business."

Firmly established as the current king and with the all-time top spot well within reach, Eminem starts letting it all get away little by little.

First, he allows himself to get caught up in "battles" with far inferior rappers like Ja Rule and Benzino, both of whom clearly came after Em for the sake of publicity. (To be fair, Em tried to go after some tougher competition, but Canibus never really engaged him.)

Then, Encore was panned almost universally as a disappointment (personally, I dug it more than most, because I've always been partial to the silly side of Em that we saw on older songs like "Get You Mad").

Things got even worse in 2005, when Mathers' best friend and sidekick Proof was shot and killed in Detroit. Em went into shutdown mode, mailing in a couple of subpar new tracks for a greatest hits album and becoming addicted to painkillers and sleep medication.

His first attempt at a comeback, 2009's Relapse, was unremarkable (with the exception of his zombie Christopher Reeve cameo at the end of "Medicine Ball"). The second, though, was a smash — Recovery returned Eminem to the top of the commercial heap and helped him regain at least some credibility with critics, even if the album still fell well short of his previous apex.

Recovery could still have counted toward that "one or two more solid albums" I had talked about in 2003 — but that would also require forgetting that the previous five years had happened. When we're talking about the greatest ever, you can't have that long of a dry spell, no matter what the reason.

Also working against Em is his apparent need to join the Mutual Dickrider Society of younger pop rappers. When one recalls how infrequent Rakim's guest appearances were, it's somewhat comical to see the greatest of his era stooping down to collaborate with the likes of Drake, Lil' Wayne, Nicki Minaj, Bruno Mars and B.o.B. I get that it's a job and you want to get paid, but you can stain a legacy in the process. Em has done that to some degree over the past year or two.

At 39, he's still not ancient. There's still time for Marshall Mathers to kick it back into overdrive and claim the top spot before he's finished, although that seems somewhat unlikely given the current state of affairs. His talent is still unparalleled, but the pop machine seems to be holding him hostage.

He'll have to settle for a spot in the top three — which still puts him ahead of almost all of the people he grew up worshiping. Not bad for a white boy from the generally worthless state of Michigan.