Marshawn Lynch-ED

I’m just here so I don't get fined, and I'm fine with just giving you mere pieces instead of all of me, you see because I'm still blind in your eyes and thats proven by me getting arrested for walking while black til this day, see no super bowl or nfl championship ring can equal to the title of being in the N.F.L., a NIGGER FOR LIFE, who you want to run the rock to touch down in an end zone, now break those words down, end and zone, you want our end to come in zoned off sections called prisons, and my intuition tells me to keep running, but against the grain I stop and tell you to hold my dick, feel my DNA that was found way back in the caveman days and there is no disproving this fact, see you see me as a black puppet, wanting me to conform to your written norm, but you will not Russell Wilson me and pick me off, you may simply get flipped off cause like 2-4 I go into beastmode and beast those like Jesus did the when the beast rose and the beasts who got sold down the river quiver in the face of those white folks, but don't mistake me for no Stephen A Smith, I back my talk up and not just talk shit, I’m simply the human version of a fifth of crown, on some king shit, rather on some warrior shit, cause when I think of O-A-K, I think of Oscar Grant, you Marshawn Lynched………...him and cheated him out of life like a Patriot with deflated balls, but karma is a bitch and birds fly high just to drop more shit on unclean situations, so excuse me for being silent, cause silence talks louder than words on occasion, thats why I stay quiet when most folks spew crap out their mouth, the same mouth that their mothers should have used to swallow broken chain links, see my last name is Lynch, I was born with chains around my neck called poverty, projects and premature death, hung from a branch and left to swing, but they forget I’m a king and not a jester, so I loosened the noose, dropped down to plant these black feet on solid ground and as a final gesture, I told em…..you can hold my dick, because you cannot hold me down, my dreads hang so I can be reminded of how many got Lynch-ed because of your sideways tactics, and I can't forget those of my own who sold me out like bastards, the Pete Carroll type negroes, not wanting me to be the hero, but Superman don’t wear an S on his chest, he wears a B, for Black, for Blood, for Benjamin Banneker, Josephine Baker, Amiri Baraka, but most of all……...for beastmode, our lifestyle