>>19437107>>19437340>>19437403Listen up, because the Nature Boy is talking, WOOOOO!
When Ric Flair steps into the world of pro wrestling, the whole arena stands still. You are not looking at a wrestler. You are looking at the man who wears shoes that cost more than your house payment, robes stitched with gold thread, and suits sharper than a diamond cutter. I fly in private jets, ride in stretch limousines, drink the finest champagne, and spend more in one night than most men see in a year, WOOOOO. And every woman in the front row knows exactly why they call me the kiss stealin, wheelin-dealin son of a gun.
Did I? Did I? WOOOOOO! Did I hear some people whisper that wrestling is scripted? There is nothing scripted about living like the Nature Boy WOOOOOOOOOO! You cannot fake the grind. You cannot fake the pressure of staying on top. You cannot fake being the man every other man wants to be. Every match is a showcase of style, power, and pure class. Every chop echoes like thunder. Every strut reminds the world they are watching the greatest to ever walk that aisle. Heroes want to rise. Villains try to cheat. None of them live the life I live. None of them shine the way I shine, WOOOOO!
And let me tell you something important. The crowd fuels the magic. When they cheer, I rise higher. When they boo, I grin bigger. Their energy fires through the ring like a jet taking off. You feel it in your chest, in your legs, and in your soul when you hit the mat and stand right back up, ready to shout WOOOOOOO!
Pro wrestling is more than moves. It is swagger. It is luxury. It is walking into any room knowing you are the best. And that is why the ring belongs to the Nature Boy forever.
WOOOOOOOOOOO!
