It was cold af fam. Coooold! There was snow, ice, allat shit. You couldn’t see shit, for the night was dark. Wesley Snipes kina dark. And it was New Year’s Eve. This lil tween PAPOS bitch done tripped over her Mama big ass kix n bout got knocked over by these two whips rollin by. Shoona been wearin em but alla bitch got. Now day gon. One off who know where. The other snatched up by a lil muhfukkuh cross the way. Now PAPOS got no zories. Bitch raised up got her travel on. Feet red and blue cuz it so cold. She barkin, tryna sling her wares n shit and none dees muhfukkuhs tryna have dat. She got dees matches she tryna leggo, couple fuckloads of em, but she look so cold an hungry nobody wanna stop an see wussup.
PAPOS weave dun got all kina snow in it, but she payno mind, she smell some cookin. Mmmm she smell some good cookin. She smellat chicken, fam. GOD DAMN it smell good. GOD DAMN she hungry. All dees windows wit all dees candle in em. GOD DAMN she cold. She remember it New Year’s Eve.
She post up in this corner oveer, where a couple of houses come together, be all adjacent n shit. She tuck her cole ass feet up under her ass tryna stay warm, be she just be gettin colder and colder. GOD DAMN it’s cold. She wanna go home, but she ain’t sole SHIT and she know her daddy gon beat dat ass for not bringin in any cheddar. Shit her crib almost as cold as up in hur. Wind all blowin through the roof n shit. Them muhfukkuhs stuff rags n leaves n shit in dair, it don do shit. Still cold. GOD DAMN it cold.
She been eye-fuckin deez matches. She think she can spare one to warm up dem dick grabbers. She strike that shit on the wall and DAAAAMN that fire warm. It like she threw back a double shot of Hennessy her body so warm. GOD DAMN it feel good. She be gettin it near them purple ass feet and that muhfukkuh went out. She say #FML.
She grabba nutha one. Light that shit. She say GOD DAMN she can see through the wall. She mussa been tripping balls cuz she could see straight through that motherfucker anywhere the light went. She seen in this otha bitch’s kitchen. She see her table wit her collard greens steamin away. Big ass bowl. GOD DAMN she HUNGRY. Steam jus ROLLIN off that bucket of fried chicken. GOD DAMN A DRUMSTICK COMIN AT HER! She MUST be trippin balls. Steamin ass drumstick with lil ass feet walkin to her. Then BAM the candle went out. Fuckin cold ass wet wall there now. She lighta nutha one. WTF now bae is under a bomb ass Christmas tree. It like the one at her cousin Trey’s house. He daddy slang dat bomb as doja. Homie rich. She see a new pair kix under that tree. She see alleeze lights n shit goin allaway to da top. Nex thing she know, fucking match is out. She lookin up at tha sky n shit. “A muhffukuh dead!”, she said. Her grams dun tol her when you see a falling star, mean a tru nigga dead n goin to God. She love her grams but she already up in heaven wit big J.C. She think grams wuz the only one that gave a fuk bout er.
She lit another match, and there was her grams. “Grams!”, she holla. “You gotcho travel on when da candle wen out. Like the chicken and the greens and the tree. Take me with you!” She grab alla dem matches and lit them da fuk up. It was BRIGHT AF like the sun at lunch time. She dont want it to go out again. She wanna see her grams. Her grams take PAPOS by her arm and they flew into the brightness. Into the sky. So bright, so high. High af. High into the happiness, real chill, no mo hunger, no mo cold. They was with big J.C. in the clouds.
But in that corner, when all em folks got out to go to work, was PAPOS. Red ass cheeks an smilin ass mouf, up against at wall, frozen to death. Stiff as a Viagra hardon, with her burnt matches. “Dis bitch dead!”, someone holla. “Bitch tryna warm huhself wit dem matches.” Deez muhfukkus felt bad fo lil PAPOS, but they don kno how her and her grams rang in the new year fly af.