J-Loc's & Lil Ball Legacy

 

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows over Hoover Street, where the hum of the neighborhood blended with the laughter of two young gangsters cruising down the road on their bikes. J-Loc, his reputation rising rapidly within the Hoover set, pedaled alongside his friend, Lil Ball, a notorious 15-year-old from the 52 Hoover Gangster Crip.

 

J-Loc's name had become legendary after taking on some Rollin 60’s, earning a $30,000 bounty on his head. His homies revered him for it, hoping one day they might inflict enough damage to warrant such a price on their heads. But Lil Ball was already living that reality. With a $20,000 bounty placed on his head by the Denver Lane Bloods, another $25,000 from the Rollin 40’s, and a $15,000 police reward for information about a murder he had committed. Lil Ball name carried weight throughout South Central, California, he had nothing to prove.

 

As they rode, the sounds of their bikes' tires against the pavement mixed with their animated conversation.

 

The Ride

 

The sun dipped low, casting an orange glow over the streets. J-Loc and Lil Ball pedaled in sync, their bond evident in every shared laugh and sideways glance. For J-Loc, the thrill of having a price on his head was a badge of honor, a testament to his prowess and his loyalty to the Hoover Crips. He knew every block, every alley like the back of his hand, each one marked with stories of battles fought and won.

 

Lil Ball, despite his youth, had already seen more than most. His eyes carried the weight of his experiences, yet there was a spark of pride every time he thought about his reputation. Riding alongside J-Loc, he felt invincible. Together, they were a force, the very embodiment of their gang's strength.

 

Reminiscing the Ambush

 

"Yo, J-Loc, remember that night we hit up the Rollin 60’s spot?" Lil Ball's voice carried a hint of nostalgia mixed with excitement. The memory of that night was vivid, a defining moment in their young lives.

 

J-Loc's laughter was deep and resonant. "How could I forget, man? They were scrambling like roaches when the lights come on."

 

Lil Ball's grin widened, his eyes shining with mischief. "They put a $30,000 tag on you. That's some serious respect, bro. Only niggas that can’t be touched could get that kinda love."

 

Respect and Reality

 

J-Loc nodded, his expression shifting to one of seriousness. "It's all fun and games till they start aiming for you, though. Heard the Rollin 40’s got something special for me next time they see me."

 

Lil Ball shrugged, his nonchalance masking a deeper understanding of the danger. "Let 'em try. I got a $25,000 bounty on me from them and they still can’t touch me. Remember Denver Lane? They still crying over their homies."

 

J-Loc's smirk was one of pride and admiration. "You’re a legend, Lil Ball. Heard the cops got a $15,000 reward for you too. They have no idea it was you who took out that 16-year-old."

 

Pride and Brotherhood

 

Lil Ball's eyes gleamed with pride, his chest swelling at the acknowledgment. "Let 'em keep guessing. We run these streets, J-Loc. As long as we stick together, nobody can touch us."

 

J-Loc glanced over, admiration evident in his gaze. "Yeah, we’re untouchable. But always stay sharp, Lil Ball. Enemies are everywhere."

 

Lil Ball nodded, gripping his handlebars tighter, feeling the weight of J-Loc's words. "Always, homie. Always."

 

A Dark Path

 

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the two friends continued down Hoover, their laughter echoing through the streets, a testament to their reign in the hood and the dark path they chose to walk. For J-Loc, every ride down these streets was a reminder of his rise to power, of the respect he commanded. For Lil Ball, it was a daily affirmation of his status, his untouchable nature, and the bond he shared with J-Loc.

 

Their conversations were more than just idle talk; they were reminders of their battles, their victories, and the constant threats that loomed over them. The hoods they repped were not just territories but symbols of their identity, their strength, and their unyielding spirit. And every rival, every bounty on their heads, was a testament to the fear and respect they commanded.

 

As they rode on, the streetlights flickering on, casting long shadows behind them, they knew that their journey was far from over. The streets were their battlefield, and as long as they had each other, they would continue to reign supreme, untouchable and unbreakable.

 

J-Loc and Lil Ball cruise through the city on their bikes, the rhythmic hum of the tires on the pavement providing a sense of calm amidst the chaos of their lives. The warm breeze brushes against their faces as they navigate the familiar streets, each turn and alleyway holding memories of battles fought and alliances forged.

 

"Yo, J-Loc," Lil Ball questioned, his voice casual yet curious. "What went down the other night, cuz? Heard it was wild."

 

J-Loc takes a deep breath, the events still fresh in his mind. "Oh, listen up, my nig. Shit was lit, groove. All night I was restless as fuck, couldn't really sleep, for real. It was like, I know something was right, you know? Sweatin', tossin’ and turnin', the whole mix. I was just drifting in and out of these fucked-up dreams about when they killed yesterday. Then boom, gunfire breaks the silence. It was loud as fuck, like it was right next to me. Snapped me right out of bed."

 

"I was instantly up, adrenaline pumpin', cuz. Jumped out of bed, hit the floor. That bitch was cold as shit cuz. Instantly, I had to catch my breath.”

 

“That mean ya’ bitch ass was scared cuz. But, shit. We all been there.” Lil ball paddled beside J-Loc. “All that matter for real though groove.” Lil Ball looked over at his homie. “What happen next?”

 

“Shit groove. You already know. My heart racin'. Shit thick outside, like you could feel the vibration from the pipes bursting. My hand automatically went to the nightstand, grabbed my strap, looked at my clip, felt a mix of relief and I don’t know what the fuck. This shit is a forever battle. Even now, the fight ain't over, it never is. The streets are unforgivin'. Only the strongest survive. And we gotta be those survivors.”

 

“What? On Hoover, we keep fightin'. Our loyalty is unbreakable, our determination unyielding." Lil Ball spat out. “What the fuck happen next?”

“Homie, I checked the extendo’ in that bitch, pulled back the hammer. You know me, cuz. No hesitation. Jumped out the back door, ready to get active, groove."

 

“Hold up, cuz.” Lil Ball stopped J-Loc from talking and J-Loc pointed his eyes in the same direction that he noticed Lil Ball was looking as they both stopped at the corner on their bikes. They were out of their territory now. And they knew it but, they were brave young Hoovers who followed three real, ‘do what you want, when you want, and how you want,’ and they were doing just that. J-Loc and Lil Ball both locked eyes on a red van and a black four door Honda.

 

Both vehicles spotted the young Hoover’s wearing their orange bandannas. J-Loc wore one proudly around his head and one in his back left pocket. Lil Ball wore an Astros fitted cap and an orange bandanna wrapped around his right wrist. The windows of the van came down first. J-Loc’s face bald up. Lil Ball remained cool as he simple twisted his fingers, throwing up his set.

 

J-Loc lifted his shirt and grabbed hold of the handle of his Glock. As Lil Ball held his fingers up for the bloods to see, he used his free handle to grab hold of the handle of his gun, while balancing the bike between his legs. West groovin’.” Lil Ball called out. We active or what.” The van full big homies and O.G.’s chuckled at the little gangsters and pulled away, turning down the road and the car followed behind the van. All eyes were on the two of them and the two of them didn’t back down a bit.

 

After the vehicles were halfway down the block, J-Loc and Lil Ball continued their journey. Finish telling’ me about them sissies from the other day.”

 

"Oh yeah, cuz. The alley outside out back was lit, cuz. You know our spot is a narrow strip of concrete. That sho was lit up with gunfire. The homies, Pin-Head, Wicced, the homegirl Dymin, Pop-Oc, Big homie Drumma. Hell of the homies were already in it, duckin’ shots, bustin’ shots. I had to move fast, you know, stay' low, makin' my way to that rusted dumpster to get behind. I peeked out, scannin' for sissies. The whole scene was a blur of noise and motion."

 

"A few nights back, we got word about an ambush planned by the Rollin Sissies. Talkin’ ‘bout hitin’ us hard. Hittin’ lil homies after school, yeah, all that. The tension was high, cuz. We stay up, sticks on deck. Moved through the alley and it was like every sound was amplified. Then, outta nowhere, more gunfire blasted. Bullets flyin', windows shatterin'. I dove behind a parked car, heart poundin'. Saw them comin', you know had to do it."

 

"I came up, started blastin'. I hit the nigga Joner T. That bitch as nigga that was at the spot that day. The one that blasted on Lil Man Man and Nap-Dropper.”

 

“Okay, I heard he got stretched. I’m glad you got that bitch, groove.” Lil Ball praised.

 

“Groove, I could here the shouts, the cries of the niggas on the ground bleeding out. I see one of the homies get hit, blood went everywhere. That sight, cuz, that shit sent me crazy, homie. I moved around the car, I saw Pop-Oc drop a Sissie then I popped another nigga' them bitch’s was goin’ down one by one. They started getting low. Pin-Head had the switch. He dumped that bitch. Police was comin’ from all over, groove. We could here the siren’s. But, watchin' them fall, it was like a validation of my skills. They were obstacles, threats. Every life I took was a step closer to securin' our hood."

 

"When it was over, the street was a mess of bodies. The Rollin Sissies retreated, leavin' their hoes behind. We had to get low too.” They both chuckled. “We made sure we got our homies that was good before we all got low, though. Like Big Chu said. Each fight leaves scars, cuhz, both on the body and the mind. But it strengthens our resolve. We gotta protect our own, no matter the cost."

 

Lil Ball, looked over at J-Loc. “Fuck what the Big homies say, tell Big Chu, guns still work the same. Lame ass niggas always got knowledge.”

 

Lil Ball’s voice trails off, the weight of the memory heavy in the air. J-Loc nods, understanding the unspoken truths behind the words. They ride on, their bond strengthened by shared experiences and the unending fight for survival in the unforgiving streets.

 

J-Loc and Lil Ball continued cruising through the streets on their bikes, the warm evening air brushing against their faces. They had just left the block where their homies were posted, the sun dipping low, casting long shadows that made the streets feel even more dangerous. They had been reminiscing about past battles and the tight bond that kept their crew, the Hoovers, strong.

 

“Yo, J-Loc, you remember what your first shootout with the Rollin’ sissies?” Lil Ball asked, curiosity in his voice.

 

J-Loc took a deep breath, the memories of that night flooding back vividly. “Yeah, cuz. It was just gettin’ dark, and we were chillin’ on Figueroa. We were just runnin’ the fade, me and Chance from 43rd, when we heard it—the rumble of engines, growlin’ loud as a bitch, groove.”

 

The the homies, Big Dre, had said, “Yo, y’all hear that?” His squinted his eyes as he strained to catch the sound. My heart started poundin’ like a bitch,” J-Loc continued. “I knew it had to be the Rollin’ sissies. My hand went straight to my joint, tucked in my shit. I was just a lil nigga’ back then, but I’d seen enough from Big Joka, Choppa and the other Big homies to know shit was about to pop off. As the sissies pulled up, shit was gettin’ uglier by the second. You could feel it in the air, like the calm before a storm.” J-Loc set forth.

 

“Why the fuck I ain’t hearing none of y’all dumping yet?” Lil Ball questioned seriously.

 

“Nigga, you know I was just eight years old, remember?” Said J-Loc.

 

But, Lil Ball wasn’t hearing it. “I put down Big Yacc when I was eight. Caught at the light slippin’ when I was with my mom’s one day.”

 

“Yeah, I heard that shit a thousand times. Anyway, the sissies stepped out, guns ready, eyes locked on us. No words, just straight, pissed. Without a word, the first shot rang out,” J-Loc said, his voice dropping lower. “It was like a bomb went off. Everything exploded right there, cuz. I ducked behind a parked car, my heart slammin’ against my fuckin’ ribs, and I pulled out my three eighty. Bullets fuckin’ flyin’ everywhere, the air thick with the smell of gunpowder and the sounds of guns barkin’.”

 

I hear Pop-Oc, yell out, “Get down!” But, it was already too late. The homie Cash got spent. I ain’t see who put him down. I peeked over the hood of the car and saw one of the sissies. Bitch ass Trigger, firing off rounds after round. That bitch had a K’. He had the homies pinning down. But we couldn’t go out like that. I saw one of ours go down, and something snapped inside me. This was for real. This was life or death.”

 

“Fuck you thought it was, dumb ass?” Lil Ball shook his head as they paddled.

 

“Fuck you, bitch. Anyway, I saw Trigger line up another shot, and without thinkin’, I jumped up and fired. The recoil kicked back hard, and I saw him go down, clutchin’ his chest. For a split second, I felt this sense of triumph, like the fuck I just made the team. The I got body-team. And it wasn’t a random, I had took down one of the big dogs.”

 

“Hell yeah, Trigger? He put down a few homies and had a few homies hit. I remember the party the homies threw you, like it was yesterday but, I never really got the story behind that shit groove.”

 

“Say less, there was no time to celebrate at that moment,” J-Loc continued, his voice tinged with a mix of pride and pain. “The fight kept going’. Reaper was hit next, a bullet tearin’ through his shoulder. But he kept firing, like it was nothin’. Ghost and Rage from the sissies were tearin’ through us like we were nothin’. The screams and gunfire all blended into one fuckin’ nightmare soundtrack.”

 

“That’s cuz I wasn’t there, homie.”

 

“Yeah, okay. Then, outta nowhere, I felt this burnin’ pain in my side. I looked down and saw blood. One of them had grazed me. I thought I was hit. But I couldn’t stop. Not now. I fired again, hittin’ one of them in the back. He went down hard, screamin’ like a bitch.”

 

“Sissies!” lil Ball blurted out.

 

“I turned to see another one of my homies go down, and I knew we were losin’. The Rollin’ sissies’s had us. I heard Pop-Oc tellin’ me to get low. Another homie tellin’ me to go. They tryna get outta there but they ain’t wanna leave my dump ass. I just said fuck it and emptied my shit in last direction I seen them bitch’s and got outta there, groove. Feel me? I saw a chance and took it, sprintin’ away from the scene. I heard Bones shoutin’, saw him turn to fire at me, but I was too fast. I ducked around a corner, trying to catch my breath’, but I kept runnin’.”

 

“Did you see the homies get out of there?”

 

“I don’t remember. That was like six years ago nigga. I know by the time the gunfire finally died down, I was safe across the street in my crib, but the price had been high. Five of the homies were dead, their blood soakin’ into the street. We had lost Drop, Reaper was injured, and Mad Dog was bleedin’ out. Rage and Ghost from the sissies stood victorious, but the battle had taken its toll on everyone.”

 

“I knew this wasn’t over. I knew there would be payback. But for now, I was just glad to be alive, even as the echoes of gunfire still rang in my ears. I had made it out, but I knew I would never forget the lost we took that night, that night when everything changed.”

 

Lil Ball nodded, understanding the weight of J-Loc’s words. They rode on in silence, the bond between them stronger than ever, forged in the fire of survival on the unforgiving streets.