King James’ Version

I am so oppressed and disadvantaged it’s not even funny. But now I have the floor and everyone should listen to me. I am, after all, the king. I was crowned long ago. I am the G.O.A.T. Jordan can go play golf, ‘cause he’s got nothing on me. I even took his number. Hail to the king.

I grew up in Akron, Ohio. I was underprivileged enough to go to a prep school with a fantastic basketball program. Of course, I made it fantastic. I knew I was that good, and I left it all on the court. In 2013 they remade the stadium with a donation I made personally. Hail to the king. 

The Cavs picked me up out of high school. Now watch me ascend the ranks of superstardom. Watch me smoke the Pistons out of the playoffs in 2007 with 48 points in three overtimes. No one came close. Hail to the king.

But I still didn’t have that ring. So I made the world wait and watch in the most overhanded dramatic kingly fashion my decision to go to Miami. Forget you, Cleveland. Maybe later. The king needs his supporting players. The king needs his title. The king needs that ring. Hail to the king.

Fine, Cleveland, when I got nothing to prove, I’m back. After I won back-to-back titles in Miami with a team that was hand-picked and almost literally impossible to beat, I graced Cleveland with my presence once again. But only once, because … Steph Curry. But everyone knows I let him win, that’s why I walked off the court that one time. Hail to the king.

I’m worth half a billion dollars. I own pizza franchises, production companies, and struck billion dollar deals with Nike. I have millions of followers on Twitter. People wear my number, hang up posters of me, and listen to everything I say. Of course they do, I’m the king. Hail to the king.

I earned it. I deserved it. I will stomp on anyone and everything who gets in the way of my success. If you disagree with me, YOU’RE NEXT. #ACCOUNTABILITY