I'm gonna tell you a story. A story of a true "Xmas" miracle. This is the tale of a bully and a little bitch. I'm talking about a mean, nasty bully and a scrawny-ass little bitch. This bully would pick on the little bitch every day after school. If little bitch had cash, little bitch got robbed. If little bitch bowed up, little bitch got stomped. Point I'm trying to make here is, this bully owned that bitch like a Lincoln Continental, but something happened to change it all. On this Xmas of our tale, little bitch got lucky with the gifts, see? Something little bitch loved more than anything before family, God, and country was baseball. Loved the shit out of it. Well, on this Xmas morning when he got out of his little bedroom and looked under his little tree, guess what he found. An Easton Magnum aluminum baseball bat. Little bitch grabbed that bat and went right outside to play. Didn't even take the bow off, he was so excited. And there he was on the corner ball field, hitting balls like he was Sammy Sosa when his bully comes up, eyeing that bat. And just as the bully made his way up to him, without any warning bam! Blood. fuckin' everywhere. Blood on the ground, blood on little bitch, blood dripping down the bow still wrapped around that bat. Little bitch knocked every tooth out of that motherfucker's head. Cracked his skull open, popped his eyeball out on home plate. All because little bitch saw the truth. That bat may have been made to play ball, but that wasn't its purpose. Nuh-uh. In that moment in little bitch's hands, it was there to break this nigga's head open. See, Anon, we all have a purpose in this world, and it's our lot in life to wait for the cosmos to reveal what that is.
