Airwrecka Monologue

"Kool as fuck birthday!" holla'd Jizzo as dat nigga playfully socked Airwrecka up in tha shoulder n' shit. "How’s mah baby sis bustin?" "I ain’t no funky-ass baby, I’m 16 nigga. Jizzo, you only a year olda than me!" laughed Airwrecka yo. Ho momma was chillin up in tha recliner up in tha livin room, n' Airwrecka asked, "Yo momma, can we go git mah permit?" "Let me git all yo' papers up in order, n' we can go tomorrow," ho momma replied. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! For ho birthday, Airwrecka went up fo' dinner all up in Denny’s. Da next day, Airwrecka raised up n' stumbled outta bed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Biatch went over ta tha kitchen ta make breakfast, n' glanced at a note on tha fridge. Well shiiiit, it holla'd, "Gone ta thang rap battle 4 Jizzo, Be Back soon! -MOMMA"
"Ok," thought Airwrecka,"I can wait fo' mah permit." Biatch trudged all up in tha crew room, n' saw tha lock box wit all
Carefully, dat hoe folded tha paper, n' started diggin some mo' n' mo' n' mo'. What ho big-ass booty saw next made ho ass stop. There was a cold-ass lil certificate wit tha name Airwrecka Anne Locke on it fo' realz. All tha color left ho vision as ho big-ass booty stared all up in tha paperwork statin dat biiiiatch wasn’t ho muthafathas’ child. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Before thankin bout it, dat dunkadelic hoe took tha paper n' stuck it on tha fridge next ta tha note ho momma left. Then dat hoe felt heavy n' dat shiznit was hard as fuck ta stand up, so ho dope ass decided ta head ta bed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Wantin ta never wake up, dat hoe laid down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. "Why is I here, biatch? Why didn’t mah muthafathas want me son, biatch? Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck be I?" was thoughts flashin all up in ho head as ho big-ass booty started ta sob