Does religiously reading my messages to the world’s worst weirdos, celebrity co-conspirators, casual citizens, punk-ass police, and everyone else involved in this indisputable inequity make y’all forever followers of my monumental movement? Hey, you, yes, y’all, be honest, that stupid shit that the so-called secret society typically turns to before their self-serving shit storms hit home ain’t workin with me, is it? And it ain’t ever gon’ work, you stupid-ass motherfuckers! What, do you mindless miscreants think that I have to be in the wacko ward to exhibit evidence of the effectiveness of your totally trendy touchless torture tactics? Bitch, you’re broadly broadcasting the bullshit! That feeling you feel when wondering if I’m the Main Man’s main man, don’t fight it! Y’all, it’s over. Mrs. “Ma,” the “Black Love” boy’s broad, with your absolutely astounding aesthetic, you’re a “real bitch,” right? So, should I tell them, or should you? Because… Anyhoo, “God’s on your side? Shit, I’m a’ight wit’ that! ‘Cause we gon’ reload them clips and come right back! And that’s a fact, homie! You go against me, you’re fucked! I get the drop, if you can duck, you’re luckier than ‘Lady Luck!’ Look, nigga!” Hip hop hasn’t helped heal many men at all. And in fact, it has instead made many men more mindless and pushes them toward the propensity for purposely practicing making many “mistakes.” Curt, why in this war-ridden, wildly wicked, wasteful, worsening world would you so vocally vouch for violence? Sir, success shouldn’t come with the pressure to please people, it should come from people pleased to be a pleasure. And that’s why you smartly smile so much, right? I bet a PR person pointed that out to you years ago, huh? If you ultimately understand that mean men may make many men mad, as you vocally vouch for violence, and as a mean man, why manifest madness with meanness? That doesn’t make sense, does it? They’re trying to make me a mean man, Curt. They want me to seem “So Sensitive” so bad that they’re tirelessly trying to trigger me—suggesting that my rightful responses to recurrent ridiculousness somehow shows sensitivity. These are the type of people who’d put petty, puerile people on a public pedestal to make their cringingly childish cowardice seem sort of cool. Right, Curt? The industry is surely shadier than Slim, with wealthiness and a wealth of weirdness working to worsen the world day in and day out. Moving on, would y’all like to know which famous folks are factually fake as fuck? Well, I may be mad at moments, making me a man mildly mad in maddening moments, but I’m not a messy man any time, any day. However, frauds and facades are terrible threats to the sacred security of our souls, so l’ll tell the truth about particular popular people soon enough. Is it messy if they make you mad—making you mean? That’s a trick question, Tasha K. Y’all, tabloid-telling tough-talkers like Tasha K. have been fucking with the Feds forever, allegedly! Oops, I did it, again. And again, showbusiness is the big business that pays people to play parts. For instance, if petty, puerile people with “power” don’t want peace for particular people, they pay for perpetually peace-killing content creation. What I’ve been saying regularly and repetitively is, in Hollywood, even everyday events—normal stuff that makes national news—can be and occasionally is scripted. And I can prove that beyond a reasonable doubt. Speaking of Shawn, there’s no need to shorten that one, sup, son? I’ve just been kickin’ back, keeping real, kid, no doubt! You heard? “I got MAGA republicans! Those shots come straight for the top of the government, good luck with them!” Oh… if y’all only knew! Cliff, should “young pimpin’ brag a minute?” They say it’s lonely at the top, and I guess that’s why I’m the only one here. But I can’t say that I’m without fear. Fear fuels fights, as just the thought of being conquered or controlled can cause certain people to pop. Stars, you sold your souls with those sacks you were slingin’—purposely poisoning people for pleasure, not to be a pleasure to people! Then, you bragged ’bout it to fund fortunes! Why would God be good with greedy, gluttonous gangsters giving him glory for stupid shit that they thought they’d gotten away with? Rogaine-requiring radio rebel, why the figgity fuck would you call yourself a “God,” sir? Do you think that makes the Main Man mad—making him mean? For the record, yes, the Feds have been following and fucking with me forever. But no, I’m not nor have I ever been a big, balling drug dealer. However, I’ve always been the only one. And soon…
Omniscience