South Central Page #3

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Bust a cap in that motherf***er.

No, Bobby, don't do it, man!

Don't listen to what

these guys are saying!

It's your woman

he's f***ing with.

I swear to God, I never

touched your woman, man!

Bobby, I swear I didn't

do this to you, man.

I didn't do anything.

Bobby, don't do it!

Loco...

Spray the place.

Come on, man, let's go!

Yo, man, f*** this

sitting around sh*t.

We did what we had to do, right?

I mean, the motherf***er

was in the way

of Deuce progress.

Now, he needed to get got.

Come on, Bobby, man.

You O.G., now,

brother.

Bobby Johnson...

original gangster killer.

Bear, you got the stuff?

Yeah.

You O.G. now,

man.

Now you get your heart.

This is what deucing's

all about...

taking care of your own...

and let nobody...

nobody...

diss Deuce.

What's... Jimmie!

There you go.

Bobby, what's wrong?

Bobby, you didn't!

We got to move.

Pack your things.

I can't stand this no more.

When we going to do something?

We been sittin'

around here for months.

What's happened to you?

You know what's up.

Yeah, I know what's up.

Hidin' out, layin' low.

What are we going to do?

Are we going to spend the rest

of our lives cooped up?

No, you going to

sit your ass down

and shut up.

Well, you can't keep taking

all your frustrations

out on this!

I'm trying to feed this kid.

Bobby, Ray Ray's getting rich.

Some of that money is ours.

F*** it.

I'm going out.

You know what's up.

Sh*t.

Don't talk to nobody.

Damn!

Come on. Come here.

Come here.

Check me out, Bob.

Ooh! Nice ride,

Ken Dog.

Cash money, baby.

Yeah. We traded

a sack of rocks

for this motherf***er.

You both own it?

Yeah. But I drive.

Sh*t, you don't want

to ride with Loco drivin'.

Hee hee hee.

Hop in, man.

We'll ride.

No, man.

You still worried

over smack man?

You got to relax, homeboy.

Word on the streets is that

cops stopped looking.

Sh*t, man. You did

the neighborhood a favor.

Little Deuce, you want

to go for a ride, babe?

Sure, we do.

Huh?

Come on, let's go.

Damn!

Look at that b*tch.

Damn.

She a hustler?

Be cool, Loco.

Relax, Bobby. It's only

a fine-ass b*tch.

Damn! I know you ain't

hustling, baby.

Why's that?

You the police?

We look like

the police to you, b*tch?

We Deuces, baby.

You bad boys kill anybody?

Sh*t, you know we down

for that 1-8-7, baby.

Why? You want

somebody killed?

Man, shut up!

Drive off, Ken Dog.

Take me with you.

God damn it!

So, you selling fur today, baby?

Huh?

How much you charge Loco

for the kitty cat?

What? You need to be high?

'Cause I got the rock.

How much this party cost?

Nothing, baby.

It's on the state.

LAPD. Pull over.

What the f***?

You a cop?

I'm busting your asses

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