Crips And Bloods: High Risk and Big Dreams: Part 1 of 2

By Roy M. Love

Thirty-three years ago, a young man called Tookie organized a few guys together and called themselves the Crips. Shortly thereafter, a young man who refuses to hand his jacket over was stomped in the head until he DIED. No one really knows who killed the young man, but Tookie was given life.Muslim papers wrote about the TRAGEDY in their Chronicle that often found its news thrown in everybody's front yards all over the South, FREE of charge. That news mostly covers everything throughout the United States.A veteran called Bootleg who escaped from the South RAN out by the GRAND DRAGON HIMSELF to Los Angeles for seeing a white woman naked. He was soon accepting the role of being the dean, or you could say THE BLACK SHADOW for an ENTIRE NEIGHBORHOOD of young gangsters that have been tarred with this PLAGUE BRUSH and is the next generation of Crips and Bloods thirty-three years later.Crips and Bloods are international in most states in the United States NOW. And through PROSPERITY, they will continue to become millionaires. Thanks to their Mexican associations and vice versa. Now that rap music has caused a nuclear explosion, and this gold dust has fallen over a massive number of blacks with these fabricated contracts; starvation has increased tremendously for high risk and big dreams

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9781638812852

Book preview

Title Page

Copyright © 2022 Roy Love

All rights reserved

First Edition

NEWMAN SPRINGS PUBLISHING

320 Broad Street

Red Bank, NJ 07701

First originally published by Newman Springs Publishing 2022

ISBN 978-1-63881-284-5 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-63881-285-2 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

To OG Crips and Bloods

Contents

Introduction

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

About the Author

Introduction

Thirty-three years ago, a young man called Tookie organized a few guys together and called themselves the Crips. Shortly thereafter, a young man who refuses to hand his jacket over was stomped in the head until he DIED. No one really knows who killed the young man, but Tookie was given life.

Muslim papers wrote about the TRAGEDY in their Chronicle that often found its news thrown in everybody’s front yards all over the South, FREE of charge. That news mostly covers everything throughout the United States.

A veteran called Bootleg who escaped from the South RAN out by the GRAND DRAGON HIMSELF to Los Angeles for seeing a white woman naked. He was soon accepting the role of being the dean, or you could say THE BLACK SHADOW for an ENTIRE NEIGHBORHOOD of young gangsters that have been tarred with this PLAGUE BRUSH and is the next generation of Crips and Bloods thirty-three years later.

Crips and Bloods are international in most states in the United States NOW. And through PROSPERITY, they will continue to become millionaires. Thanks to their Mexican associations and vice versa. Now that rap music has caused a nuclear explosion, and this gold dust has fallen over a massive number of blacks with these fabricated contracts; starvation has increased tremendously for high risk and big dreams.

Chapter 1

Many years ago there was a young man named Bootleg. He was chased out of the South with guns and ropes. He traveled to the West Coast without children or family. He arrived starving and didn’t know anyone. Crossing the street, in a trance, he was almost struck by a car. A lady was driving the vehicle; he would learn her name was Pattie Jackson. She was upset and felt terrible about the accident, so she offered to drive him to the hospital. He refused, and she offered him a ride home. Bootleg expressed to Pattie that he had no home to go to, explaining that he had just got off a freight train with no place to go. He was without relatives or friends. Pattie felt extreme remorse for Bootleg and took him home.

Pattie was a single woman with two growing boys, Jeffrey and Keshawn Jackson, ages six years and two years respectively. Pattie allowed Bootleg to stay in the backhouse (which needed much repairing), where he could lay his head and enjoy hot meals in exchange for doing work around the house. Several years had gone by, and Pattie helped Bootleg get a good job working for the county. He managed to save enough money to buy an unrenovated house next door for a reasonable price. He watched K—short for Keshawn—and Jeff grow up, and he became a massive influence in their lives. Bootleg introduced the young boys to the Islamic culture and taught them the newspapers produced by the local Muslims, educating them about Crips coming up in South Central and how he saw a change coming. K and Jeff looked up to Bootleg because they did not have a father.

Pattie had a sister named Maggie who had a son named Gerald. Gerald’s dad was killed during a dice game; the other player found the dice he had brought to the crap game were loaded dice, and they unloaded on him. Like K and Jeff, Gerald was growing up fatherless. Maggie would bring Gerald over to play with his cousins, and Gerald would always bring his ball. The boys would head over to Bootleg’s house and play basketball on a court that Bootleg had made himself. Gerald would cheat and argue, and Jeff would throw him to the ground, chastising that ass. Gerald was a lot older by three years and much bigger too. Jeff grinned when he saw his brother beat up someone bigger and older than him. Bootleg would stand off to the side, laughing, making sure the boys never saw him. He never took sides.

Bootleg would tell the boys stories of drive-bys, Crips beating up other people, and their feud with the Bloods. It was a dispute that continues today, fueled by drugs, turf, and colors, but mainly rap. Bootleg would heat up the old barbecue grill, and the boys around the neighborhood would pile into his backyard. Some boys Bootleg didn’t even recognize, but they would come with respect, sometimes also managing to steal a bottle of wine to bring to Bootleg as a sign of gratitude. They were only about fourteen years old, so he knew they weren’t buying it.

One Sunday after church, Maggie and Gerald went by Pattie’s house for dinner and for Gerald to play with his cousins. Without realizing it, Gerald actually grew to hate his cousin Jeff.

Jeff was hanging out front with some of the guys who lived in his hood and went to the same school. They would sit and drink beer, talking gang shit. This day, Jeff and his friend walked to the liquor store late that afternoon before his mother, Pattie, was to serve dinner. The boys had a few beers, and Eight Ball, LA Black, and Red Dog liked Mad Dog wine, claiming that it made them feel like killing a Blood, as they say. Walking to the store, the boys talked about their intentions to become a rap group, when Big Mike, Jeff’s main partner, pulled up. BM and Jeff were like brothers, and Bootleg called BM his son too. Jeff and BM sold weed on the side and worked for Bootleg at a car wash he had bought and owned. Bootleg would soon retire and allow Jeff and BM to take over, paying a percentage on the side.

BM drove a fresh, blue Camaro drop-top representing Crip colors that he had just bought with his savings, and Jeff was soon going to get one too with money saved from working at the car wash. While BM purchased a couple of bottles of wine for his homies, he asked if they’d heard about the three Crips that got smoked at the gas station the night before while putting air in their tire.

Hell yeah, one of those niggas was my cousins, said Eight Ball, drunk off Mad Dog wine. I’m going to kill the first Blood I see. I don’t give a fuck. That ass is going to be taxed when I see it. He went on while waving a big .44 Magnum around in the air, drunk as his friends. They all ducked down afraid, he might accidentally shoot them. BM handed Eight Ball and his crew the wine he’d purchased, and they left looking for trouble to run into.

Jeff climbed into BM’s beautiful blue Camaro with his partner and slapped in a badass CD. With the rap song playing in the background, the two began chatting about selling some cocaine. Just as they were getting ready to pull off, a pretty girl walked toward the car wearing a hot red miniskirt. Her name was Angela; BM had been trying to bang her for months. Angela, having intentions to seduce BM, said alluringly, Get me some weed, and we can go somewhere and kick it. Jeff knew they wanted privacy, so he excused himself.

I’m going home. Mom already cooked dinner, and they expecting me home. You guys enjoy yourself. Sorry it ain’t me, Angela.

BM laughed and responded jokingly, Me too.

BM offered to give Jeff a ride, but he refused to take it and headed home.

Eight Ball, Black, and Red Dog were already ahead of Jeff. Walking home, Eight Ball and Black saw a guy they did not know hop out of a car parked in the alleyway. They suspected he was Blood. Eight Ball, full of wine, said to Black and RD furiously, Look at that Blood in our neighborhood! I’ll bet he knew who killed my cousin and his homies! Let’s get that motherfucker!

Slightly panicked, RD responded, Hold up. You can’t just kill a guy because he driving a red car. He could be anybody!

Eight Ball and Black refused to hear that shit. Eight Ball asked for Black’s sharp hunting knife that he kept at all times. Nervously, Black warned Eight Ball, That cannon will bring everybody out their house, so please don’t blast him.

Black replied, Why you think I want the knife, fool.

Eight Ball approached the guy from behind, muttering, What’s up, motherfucker, with the knife clenched to his back. The man, managing to turn around with fear in his eyes, stole a look at Eight Ball and, without the possibility of escape, he was gutted like a catfish. RD was yelling, Stop! but before he could do anything, he realized Eight Ball had stabbed the guy to death.

A mile back, Jeff could hear the screams and ran to help. As he ran toward the frightening cry, Eight Ball, Black, and RD ran away, hoping they hadn’t been made. When Jeff finally reached the poor guy, he held him in his arms; it looked as though Jeff was the person who had killed him. And that’s the way an old white lady had perceived it to be. She opened her front door and, looking from her porch, noticed Jeff holding the victim in his arms. She proceeded to call the cops. Jeff heard the sirens as the officers approached the scene; he attempted to run, knowing that he would be found guilty, but it was too late. The cops were everywhere.

Don’t you move, you Black motherfucker, or it’s over! the police yelled. They rushed in toward Jeff, hitting him upside his head and handcuffing him. It was complete chaos, but all Jeff could notice was the one witness explaining a story that he knew was untrue.

K and Gerald drove up to the scene, sent by Pattie to find Jeff once she realized he hadn’t made it home for dinner. Gerald and K immediately saw the bloody body lying on the ground and were surprised to see Jeff in cuffs. Go get Momma! Jeff yelled out.

K told Gerald to hurry up! He panicked.

Gerald smirked and whispered to K, Momma can’t help his ass now. He done fucked up.

K responded furiously, "Let’s go get my mom and rush it! I meant it, Gerald, now!"

Gerald took off running to get his Aunt Pattie and bring her back to the crime scene. Pattie, Maggie, and Gerald drove back around the corner. Pattie was confused and could not believe what was happening; she questioned if this was real. Jeff would never kill anybody. There must be an explanation for this, there gotta be, said Pattie.

Gerald responded, with hate, He probably did it.

Be quiet, K responded. K informed Maggie and his mother that Jeff laughed when he witnessed Jeff on the ground covered in blood. Once they pulled up to the scene, Jeff was in the police car, and the slain body was covered, surrounded by a crowd of people. The family of the young man had arrived at the scene with questions over his death. Although Pattie explained to the police officers that Jeff’s arrest must be a mistake, the police assured her that there was a witness. Unfortunately, the man that Eight Ball and Black killed was indeed an Eastside Blood, and all his friends got a good look at Jeff and his entire family.

Gerald stayed behind in the car, slumped down in the seats, as Patty and Maggie stayed on the scene complaining to the officers. The officers took Jeff away, and the crowd dispersed. The police told the family, If it makes you feel any better, he’s going to prison for murder.

Patty walked away from the scene crying hysterically, looking at the police officer’s car. She knew that her son would be sentenced to jail for murder. What had started as a quiet Sunday turned into a day that would change everyone’s lives forever. Jeff was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but he would have done it all over again if he could because that was the type of person Jeff was. Jeff was a part of the Crip gang but always wanted better for himself. He never did drive-bys or engaged himself in senseless acts of crime. Jeff was all about his money; he was a part-time hustler and worked hard to become a rapper.

When Maggie drove her sister home, the Eastside Blood Killer followed behind them with a soft tail. He trailed them very carefully to Pattie’s home address without them even knowing that they were being followed.

*****

Awaiting trial, Jeff called his mother plenty of times to inform her of his charges, which she knew he would likely face. Jeff’s court date was the following Tuesday. Patty, Bootleg, and K all showed up to support him. Jeff was read his charges and told that he would need to return to court to begin the trial.

Once the trial began, Jeff’s loved ones returned back to court. Pattie, Bootleg, and K were surprised to see Red Dog in court. He was the only one of Jeff’s friends who had shown up. Red Dog felt remorse for what had happened to Jeff.

Red Dog was in an odd position. He had previously visited Jeff in jail as he awaited trial and knew that if Eight Ball and Black found out he was supportive of Jeff, he would be labeled a snitch and killed instantly. Even with the risk of being murdered, Red Dog still felt the need to stick by his friend’s side. Besides, the police had a witness, Miss Whittaker, the last breed of her kind. She continued to live in the neighborhood after all the other whites moved out and the Blacks moved in. She never had any real problems with the Blacks in the community; everyone actually liked her. As a member of the neighborhood watch, she just told the police what she actually saw; unfortunately, it was Jeff in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Although Miss Whittaker falsely accused Jeff of the murder, there would be no retaliation against her from the Crips. As far as Eight Ball and Black were concerned, she was helping them close the door on Jeff and keep them out of jail.

Jeff’s trial was short and sweet for the DEA but long and bitter for Jeff and his family. The judge handed down the sentence: First-degree murder, seventeen years to life. Jeff’s mother and K cried out loud, and Bootleg couldn’t do anything to console them. They had lost the oldest member of their family, and K would now grow up without a big brother. K yelled out to his brother Jeff as he was hauled out of the courtroom in chains, Don’t worry, Jeff, I’m going to get you out one day. That would be the last time he saw his brother for a long time.

Red Dog hustled down to the jail the next day to visit Jeff before he was transferred to prison. Red Dog walked in, crying. He said to Jeff, I’m sorry.

Jeff replied, I understand.

They already having a funeral today, Red Dog told Jeff. Jeff asked Red Dog the name of the guy who had been murdered. He figured that since he was being charged for murder, he should know the victim’s name. Roger Johnson. He was from the Eastside Blood Killers, Red Dog told Jeff. It was difficult to hear through the jail phones. Jeff asked Red Dog to speak louder. When he repeated, Jeff was overcome with a feeling of concern for his family. He wondered how his mother and brother were doing.

Jeff told Red Dog to tell his mother and brother to be very careful because the Eastside Blood Killers lived up to their name. They were stone-cold killers! The visit came to an end, and Red Dog promised to go visit Jeff’s mother and brother. He arrived at their house to tell them the entire truth of what had really happened the night Jeff was arrested. But once he arrived, there was no one home. Pattie and K were over at Pattie’s sister’s house that Sunday.

Gerald had just received his AA degree in business and was working really hard to land a major job for a record company recruiting and contracting rappers. Although Patty and K were there to celebrate with their aunt and Gerald, their minds were focused on Jeff. Concerned with Jeff and the terrible situation, they didn’t even stay to eat dinner. After the gifts were opened, they left and drove home.

On the way home, they drove past the church where Roger’s funeral was being held. Pattie was unaware this was Roger’s funeral; if she had known the funeral was that day she would have taken another route home. Yet K figured it had to be Rogers’s funeral as he noticed red flags on the coffin when the body was carried out to the cemetery. Although Pattie did not notice she was driving past Rogers’s funeral, those who had soft-tailed her the other night definitely noticed and thought how bold she must have been to ride by that day.

After the funeral, the Eastside Blood Killers gathered around each other, drinking everything and smoking sherm and angel dust and becoming more out of control by the moment. That night, when Pattie was in her kitchen making lunch for school, Pattie heard shots from an automatic weapon in constant rapid fire. Patty fell over the table, riddled with bullets, pulling everything off the table, grabbing and gasping for air. Pattie struggled for breath and fell to the floor in a pool of blood. K was woken by the sound of bullets crashing into their house and ran into the kitchen. He found his mother on the kitchen floor drowning in her own blood. Pattie muttered to K, Don’t let your brother down. He didn’t kill anybody. Please don’t forget Jeff. You all that he has now.

K cried to his mother, Please don’t die, Mama, please don’t! He jumped up and ran out of the house to get Bootleg. He ran into him coming out the door. Bootleg had heard the shots and was on his way to see what had happened. K screamed, Bootleg, Bootleg! Mama has been shot! Mama has been shot! Please don’t let her die, please! Bootleg told K to call 911 for help.

Bootleg looked Pattie in the eyes as she choked for breath and said to her, I will help take care of K. I promise. Don’t worry. K ran back into the kitchen to find his mother with her eyes closed and tears falling down Bootleg’s face, realizing all he had just moments ago was gone. He begged his mother to wake up, but she was dead.

Bootleg questioned the Lord, asking, God, why? Why? Why? Why this family, Lord? The police arrived, asking if Bootleg saw anything that would lead them to Pattie’s killer. Bootleg, upset, told the officers, crying hysterically, My boy’s doing time in prison, and now my closest friend is dead! The officers felt as though Bootleg was no help and warned him to keep his opinions to himself.

K told Bootleg to call his Aunt Maggie to let her know what happened. The police covered Pattie up with a sheet. Bootleg stood paralyzed in a state of shock. He heard nothing and was unable to notice anything that was going on around him; he had become numb. He quickly snapped out of it and told K he would call his aunt right away. Once he was able to get his aunt on the line, Bootleg passed the phone to K. K cried, Aunt Maggie, Momma’s dead!

In shock, Maggie screamed, What, Pattie dead! Before Maggie could speak any further, Gerald insisted they drive over to his aunt’s house right away. Maggie, with tear-filled eyes, scattered around, looking for her keys. On the drive, Gerald began filling Maggie’s head with the idea this was caused by Jeff.

The Bloods probably shot her house up in retaliation for Jeff killing that Blood. I’ll bet that’s what happened, said Gerald, being very insensitive and not showing any consideration at all.

When Aunt Maggie walked into the house, she took a pill and sat down on the couch with the help of Bootleg. K was sitting in the corner of the sofa as the cops were telling Maggie about what happened to her sister in the last few minutes of her life. They told Maggie that her sister was hit by four semiautomatic slugs from an AK assault rifle. The officers assured Maggie that Patty would not have survived even if the ambulance had arrived in time to take her to the hospital. There was a hole in her chest; it was torn apart. They went on to assure her it was amazing that she survived as long as she did to say her final goodbyes.

While everyone was occupied with grasping the reality that Pattie was no longer here with them, Gerald was snooping around looking for car keys, planning to claim Pattie’s car as his own. As the coroner walked in to carry the body out in a body bag, Bootleg told Maggie he would clean up the house before he left, and Maggie told him, Anything in this house you want, you can take. I know Pattie would want you to have it. She turned to K. I guess, K, you’ll have to come and live with Gerald and me.

Bootleg said to K, You can come and stay with me any time you want because you know you my son too. K nodded his head in disbelief with tears rolling from his eyes as he watched his mother’s lifeless body being carried out in a Ziploc bag as if she was lunch.

As they were getting ready to leave, K fell to his knees in pain. The cops went and finished their job, and everyone was on their way out. Gerald told his mother he had the keys to Patty’s car and will now be taking it as his own. He claimed because he was getting ready to manage for the record company, he needed the car. K yelled to Aunt Maggie and Gerald in front of Bootleg, My mama just got killed, and you’re trying to take her car already! K went on, I’m going to sell my car to get Jeff a lawyer to get him out of jail!

Gerald replied, Nigga, you crazy.

Defending her son, Maggie cried out, If Jeff hadn’t killed that boy, my sister would still be living! So don’t bring his name to me ever again, K! She continued, I’ve got to find the strength to bury my only sister for an act Jeff committed!

K, filled with anger, replied, But Momma said before she died that Jeff was innocent, and Momma wouldn’t lie! Maggie stood silently, not speaking a word.

Maggie and K left Gerald behind to help Bootleg clean up the house but mainly for him to see what Bootleg would take now that his mother had given him the green light. But Bootleg wanted nothing. Bootleg cleaned Pattie’s blood off the kitchen floor. He showed displeasure toward Gerald, saying to him, Listen to me, Gerald. I saw you and Jeff grow up and I know you never liked him. But I don’t want you mistreating K for loving his brother. I don’t even want you discussing him around K. Because I know Jeff would have killed no one, for no reason, and I’m telling you now, I know my son is innocent, and one day I’m going to find out! So I’m begging you to stay away from K, you hear me!

Gerald replied, Long as he stays in line, he’s going to be all right. Me and Mama got to feed him now.

Bootleg continued through his frustration, Maggie got money, her house and car are paid for, and so any other money should be enough for K and Jeff. The money should last a long while, so don’t give me that shit! If Maggie sells this house, tell her to stay away from those racetracks! That’s why she owed Pattie money in the first place, all that gambling!

Gerald was upset by Bootleg’s words and left him in the house alone to continue to clean. He drove off in Pattie’s car as if it was his own new car. It seemed to be his only concern.

While Bootleg was occupied with assuring all the cleaning was done and the house would be locked down, Maggie and K were getting settled and adapting to one another as roommates. Before the night settled, K was still working to convince his aunt to sell his mother’s car. His plan to get his brother a lawyer was far more important than Gerald’s selfish need for it. However, Maggie was reluctant to give in to K’s plan. She made it clear to K. Shut up about Jeff! she exclaimed. He will rot in jail! If it weren’t for him, my sister would still be alive!

Maggie felt Pattie should have stepped up and prevented Jeff from being a part of a gang initiation. Then the family would not have found such trouble to begin with. I’m going to have to wake up early in the morning to make funeral arrangements for the only sister I have! Maggie exclaimed. She warned K to go to his room and get some rest and to never mention Jeff in