I’ve started to wonder if no one loved Phife’s album because it was a love letter only to you and no one else. I want to know if you listened to it then, and I want to know if you still listen to it now. I want to know if you’re as proud of him as I was. You don’t have to tell him out loud, but I wish I could see the faintest smile spread across your face at the first opening of your brother’s rhymes, Tip.
