Michael, you’re not listening. You’ve got a bad case of selective hearing…I’m sure that was a common criticism in your failed marriage.
You keep wanting to tetter around the 4th wall, bringing up these past thirsty DMs. Might as well go for the mortal sin of low-hanging fruits. Go big or go home, right?
I’m not the decade-old failed “Catalyst” for HOW. I don’t feel I’m OWED any shot at HOW Championship until I can string together more wins. I can’t spare any more time exchanging 4th grade insults where we label each other “stupid” constantly. I only have 2901 words or less left before we fight.
Seriously, you’re trying to break obvious news the rest of the damn roster and I already know. When you retire after losing for the 97 millionth time; you might as well go apply at CNN. They’re already breaking news 6-18 months too late. You’ll fit in fine amongst all the weasels and snakes there already. Shit, I’m sure Fox News could use the biggest scumbag like you to fill in for Hannity when he croaks.
I don’t deserve jackshit right now. I gotta work for it. It’s why I didn’t ask for you to put the LSD Championship on the line. In fact, if you wanna get TECHNICAL and share DMs; you’re the one who said I need to post five times to get an HOFC title match. I wasn’t even gonna beg for that like Keith Sweat.
This fight isn’t a therapy session for me. I’d talk to Dr. Lipschitz (the Rugrats Doctor, not the shitty PRIME knockoff) before you. Hell, I’m more apt to trust psychologists with the last names of Smith or Wesson before sitting down on your syphilis-coated couch.
This is simply a LITMUS TEST; one outside the descriptive trees. Let’s face it; I recognize that’s one of my problems. I’m trying to be the ray of sunshine when I’m running with Death Row.
I either hang or I don’t. I either stand in that ring and box with SON OF GOD and win; or I sink and drown. This ain’t one of those occasions where I pound my chest, celebrating like I’ve won the Super Bowl when I got one win.
That’s Oakland Raiders bullshit right there.
I chose to submerse myself in the Octagon with the greatest HOFC on planet Earth. One would assume that’s a testament to the lengths of hell I’m willing to put myself through to scratch and claw up the HOW ladder.
But nope, Michael Lee Best gonna cry that he’s gotta work after running his fuckin’ mouth once more. That bastard thinks I’m disrespecting him.
Newsflash: when you’re the Best in this business; you’re gonna have haters. Everyone shitting on you comes with the fuckin’ territory. It’s like you’ve forgotten that fact. Everyone’s gonna talk about stepping up to the GOD KING of HOW. I don’t need to list your accomplishments—everyone fuckin’ knows ‘em.
They know you’re the Michael Jordan of HOW. But instead; you’re acting like LeBron James.
You’re too busy looking to torch and replace the award-winning team you got. You’re too busy making the Media Scrums begging for respect. You’re poundin’ away at the keys on Stabber, looking to burn the whole world down because your son isn’t looking like an heir apparent.
You’re sitting around all day bitchin’ about those baby back bitches in PRIME. I ain’t here to defend their fuckin’ honor over some bullshit drama. Fuck ‘em if they can’t handle the cold hard truth like us. But you’re more worried those fedora-wearing simps than acting like the MACHINE you are about what’s in front of you.
All the while you’re failing to make the GOD DAMN Playoffs. It’ll be no surprise to me when Conor Fuse kicks your ass in YOUR house.
You’ve become the Karen every Best Buy worker wants to knock the fuck out—whoring yourself out on TikTok, seeking attention. Deep down, you’re still that insecure, perfectionist fat kid you claim you’ve left behind. I see it in your cold, beady eyes. It shows in those little beaver buck teeth smile every time you knee someone.
I can’t wait to make you bleed worse than Shark Week. You’re not in Heaven on your throne, Kneesus. You’re in your pathetic normal form. I’ll crucify you on your own knee after I break it off. At Chaos, it’ll be the Passion of Kneesus Christ.
It’s not REAL LOVE you’re getting this time…