A Moment with Marcus Vick: Saving the Atlanta Falcons

Evening, bitches.

::Lights pipe::

I’m here today to talk about a franchise that has always been near and dear to my heart, mostly cuz they kept me in clothes and weed for the last six years: The Atlanta Falcons. Now believe me, I know most of you cracka ass crackas reading ya internetz and “p3wning” y’all selves (I can only assume that’s nerd ass code for beatin ya dicks) and thinking that the ATL is down, but Marcus Vick has the plan to turn the Falcon fry around. See, what y’all don’t understand is that ever since my big brother Michael got sent to the pen for fighting bitches (and not in the funny way rappers make tight tracks about), there’s been a lackin for quarterbackin on that team. Well Falcons fans, Heartless Marcus is here to offer his services as the savior of ya little piece of shit franchise.

That’s right, don’t lie to me and act like y’all don’t need me. The city of Atlanta deserves a strong black role model under center, someone the kids can look up to (I luv them little children so damn much…specially the cute, lady ones) Who you got? Chris Redman? Joey Harrington? Those crackas are whiter than a picture of a mayonnaise sandwich on white bread with a cold glass of milk drawn with a Clorox bleach pen on a polar bear’s ass in a muthafuckin blizzard. And Byron Leftwich? HA! That muthafucka ain’t scored in any sense of the word in about a decade, back when his tubby ass was skinny enough that he could find his damn dick. Face the facts, Marcus Vick is the A to the Q for the ATL.

And I know most of y’all bitches and snitches is running ya lips about how the team is finished ever since that cracka ass Bobby Petrino skipped town. First off, how white does a white muthafucka have to be a grown ass man getting called “Bobby.” Shit is maaaaaaaad clown shoes. That shit is whiter than Tom Sawyer painting a picket fence with Elmer’s glue while doing the Carlton dance with that Ms. Cleaver bitch.

And anyway, losing that muthafucka shouldn’t make no difference, because the Falcons have already taken the best step for that team and hired a new coach, a black coach. It’s like Larry Johnson said, black players play better for black coaches. And the Falcons got a BLACK coach. Seriously, like, to the left of the damn Crayola box style black. Peep it…


Muthafucka lookin like the stunt double for Uncle Remus in Song of the South. That’s the kind of man that a strong brotha like myself can take plays from.

::smokes pipe::

It’s like this one time, when I was beating the shit out of that McDonald’s employee, and these two cops show up, and this white one was all like “Excuse me sir but could you please stop doing that,” and I was like “Yo punk-ass ain’t you read the Second Amendment? It says Marcus Vick don’t take no muthafuckin orders from no white folk no more!” Then his black partner told me to stop, and I did it, because I could tell that the strong Nubian brotha understood where I was coming from. And yeah, did he beat my ass with his partner? Sure, but I knew that he only did it cuz the man was making him, and I told him I knew he was only doing this because he was still fighting the chains of oppression. It don’t matter that he said he was doing it because I was a “shithead,” because we both knew the truth, and I told that brotha to keep his head up like Pac.

What you mean what’s the point of the story? Point is that Marcus Vick is like the Joker to these clown ass Virginia po-po’s Batman; I’m laughin at they asses. Point, set, MATCH. Bitch.