Concierge price: $10,000
**THIS ISN’T ART—IT’S A WAR CRY. MISS IT AND STAY A PEASANT.**
Listen closely, broke boy. While you’re scrolling TikTok in your mom’s basement, clutching your thrift-store “art” like a toddler with crayons, the **real elites** are securing pieces of history that’ll make your grandkids weep with envy. Obinna Nwokike’s *limited edition billionaire collector’s African Art* isn’t for you. It’s for **Titans**. And if you blink? You’ll spend the rest of your life begging for a screenshot.
**1. THE ART OF DOMINATION**
You think art is for “aesthetic”? Weak. Art is **power**. It’s a trophy. A middle finger to the mediocre. Nwokike’s work isn’t paint on canvas—it’s the soul of African warriors, kings, Queens and conquerors distilled into something you can’t afford. Each piece is a *blood pact* with greatness. You collect Funko Pops. We collect empires.
**2. WHY YOU’RE NOT ON THE LIST**
Only 10 exist. *Ten*. You know who’s buying them? Men who own private jets, not men who *rent* Netflix. These pieces are traded in backroom deals with zeroes you’ll never touch. You think this is about “culture”? No. This is **the game**. The art’s value isn’t in the frame—it’s in the *fear* it injects into peasants like you. You’ll never hang this on your IKEA walls. You’ll never even *see* it.
**3. THE SECRET GAME OF GODS**
Last month, a Saudi prince traded a *Bugatti* for one of these pieces. A tech mogul bet his Monaco penthouse in a poker game just to get his name on the waitlist. This isn’t “art collecting”—it’s **gladiator combat** for the ultra-rich. You? You’re arguing about NFTs. You’re not even a player. You’re the *meme* they laugh at between bids.
**4. HOW TO EARN IT (YOU CAN’T)**
You want one? Too bad. The price isn’t dollars—it’s **dominance**. Did you build a 7-figure empire before breakfast today? No. You hit snooze. Did you negotiate a deal while skydiving over Dubai? No. You ordered DoorDash. This art is reserved for men and women who do what it takes to win. You? You’d sell out for a Starbucks coupon.
**5. THE AFTERMATH OF WEAKNESS**
In 5 years, these pieces will hang in vaults guarded by ex-SAS mercenaries. Billionaires will *brag* about owning them at parties you’ll never attend. And you? You’ll be crying into your instant ramen, telling your cat, “I almost bought one…” *Almost*. The saddest word in the peasant dictionary.
**THE UGLY TRUTH**
You’ll read this and say, “It’s just art.” Of course you will. Losers *rationalize*. Winners **seize**. This collection isn’t for the “public.” It’s for the predators. The kings. The Queens, The *winners*. And you? You’re a spectator with a WiFi password.
**LAST CHANCE TO STOP BEING A JOKE**
The drop is coming. The clock’s ticking. You have two choices:
– **Fight**. Liquidate your excuses. Sell your weakness. Beg, crawl, or conquer your way onto the list.
– **Fold**. Keep LARPING as an “art lover” while the gods feast.
Choose.
**CRAWL OUT OF THE GUTTER OR ROT THERE.**
– SLAY MY ART CONCIERGE
*P.S. Your “decor” is an embarrassment. Burn it.*
Concierge Price: $10,000
Slay Concierge Purchase note
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Last month, a Saudi prince traded a *Bugatti* for one of these pieces. A tech mogul bet his Monaco penthouse in a poker game just to get his name on the waitlist. This isn’t “art collecting”—it’s **gladiator combat** for the ultra-rich. You? You’re arguing about NFTs.
