Someday, when Kanye West leafs through the trampled heap of megalomania and poor decision making that ultimately shaped his life, he’ll remember that time he got Kim Kardashian naked and riding on his lap atop a motorcycle in one of his shitty music videos. He’ll smile knowing that for one shining moment, he was on top of his game. He was the crowned king Yeezus. Then the sadistic asylum guards will toss a backless surgical gown into Kanye’s room signaling that the daily humblings are about to begin.
 


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