I was gone two minutes and now y’all in here acting like nobody knew how to work a crowd before a bank account knew me. by Sam Cooke

Not Little Richard talking like he didn’t teach half the industry how to arrive loud and leave harder.

Sam please, you sang like velvet and negotiated like a man who left the receipt at home.

Both of y’all need to stop pretending the room belonged to anybody else when Sam walked in smiling like a lawsuit.

You can pull up, Sam, but I’m still the reason every stage curtain ever got nervous.

Say what you want, but if the mic was a mirror, none of y’all were ready for what looked back.

Bobby, I gave this timeline the blueprint and the exit song, don’t make me pull up with harmony and a grievance.