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The Gangbanger's Dictionary: One Hundred and Eighty Seven Things You Better Know Before You Join a Gang

The Gangbanger's Dictionary: One Hundred and Eighty Seven Things You Better Know Before You Join a Gang

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The Gangbanger's Dictionary: One Hundred and Eighty Seven Things You Better Know Before You Join a Gang

Lunghezza:
194 pagine
2 ore
Editore:
Pubblicato:
Feb 23, 2004
ISBN:
9781410747914
Formato:
Libro

Descrizione


ABOUT THE BOOK



This book was written to show the journey of a former gang leader and crime boss named Derek Grover, street name D-Man, from being just another kid in the hood through his journey of becoming one of the most powerful street gang leaders in Southeast San Diego.



The book breaks down the most important things or knowledge of the inner workings of a criminal street gang.



Written in the form of a dictionary, this book will help explain how the gangster thinks, his reasoning, and make sense of his violent life style.



This book is non-fiction. By perfecting how to survive the streets, the author is able to teach the reader how to avoid being killed by law enforcement, rival gangsters, and general criminals of the streets.



Editore:
Pubblicato:
Feb 23, 2004
ISBN:
9781410747914
Formato:
Libro

Informazioni sull'autore

  Derek Grover, gang leader and crime boss, was formally known as D-Man, one of Southeast San Diego’s most formidable Crips.   D-Man spent much of his life living off the hardcore streets of San Diego, CA. At an early age, he joined the Bloccide Crips, a powerful and violent gang.   After losing all his crime partners and gangster homies to street killings and lengthy prison terms, he went to the next generation of gangsters with his own book/dictionary.   The Gangbanger’s Dictionary will define and explain the former gang leader’s philosophies on how to survive a street gang.  It views the life and experiences of a top rank gangbanger.

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The Gangbanger's Dictionary - Derek Grover

THE GANGBANGER’S DICTIONARY

ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY SEVEN THINGS YOU BETTER KNOW BEFORE YOU JOIN A GANG

by

Derek Grover

AuthorHouse™                                    AuthorHouse™ UK Ltd.

1663 Liberty Drive, Suite 200             500 Avebury Boulevard

Bloomington, IN 47403                        Central Milton Keynes, MK9 2BE

www.authorhouse.com                        www.authorhouse.co.uk

Phone: 1-800-839-8640                       Phone: 08001974150

This book is a work of non-fiction. Unless otherwise noted, the author and the publisher make no explicit guarantees as to the accuracy of the information contained in this book and in some cases, names of people and places have been altered to protect their privacy.

© 2007 Derek Grover. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 3/5/2007

ISBN: 978-1-4107-4791-4 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4107-4792-1 (sc)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2003098138

Printed in the United States of America

Bloomington, Indiana

This book is printed on acid-free paper.

Contents

Introduction

Chapter 1 SKINNY LITTLE KID

Chapter 2 AS I SAT ON MY BUNK

Chapter 3 THE BLOCCIDE GANG

Chapter 4 KILLER BOB

Chapter 5 THE POWER OF THE SHOOTER

Chapter 6 THE DARK SIDE

Chapter 7 THE SPIRIT OF THE DEAD HOMEBOYS

Chapter 8 GUNFIGHTERS LAWMEN

Chapter 9 THE DEADLY GUNSLINGERS

Chapter 10 PLEASE GOD HELP

Glossary

About the Author

This book is dedicated

to the dead homeboys of the

Bloccide Crip Gang.

Your loyalty to the gang will never be forgotten.

Bobby L. Kirk Jr.

Leonard Wayne Glenn Jr.

Eldon Donnel Gray

Ovie Williams Jr.

By the mean streets of San Diego.

This book was written with the promise

of being arrested later. Come have a seat with

God and watch gangsters use their unique skills.

Real life stories … Real life gangsters …

GENERAL

INFORMATION AND STRATEGIES

YOU WILL NEED TO KNOW TO SURVIVE

A GANG

Introduction

How the criminal begins to form.

As a kid you throw rocks and hit a tin sign with sticks.

You like what you see and hear; the sign starts to rip in the

center and it tears; it has been destroyed. You take this same

game with you when you get older. Later in life as an adult

you find this same tin covering a security door. It will come

natural to beat the security door in. This comes from your

childhood; this is how you will be molding your criminal

mischief.

Spoony!

Most people might say that I was your average kid. I loved to meet people. Having to know everyone in my neighborhood and being all boy at the age of 13, I found myself riding my Stingray bicycle clean to the other side of the city, to a part close to downtown. In gang words it was called the Westside.

There was a large park known as Memorial Park and I found myself involved in many things there. There was a local Boys and Girls Club. As a kid I loved to be with other boys of my age.

I enjoyed playing football and found myself at this park often, doing just that. Playing football at the park. The other boys would treat me like shit due to the fact that I was a good ball player at such a young age - scoring touchdowns and blasting the hell out of them in tackles – telling them they played like shit. This did not set too well with them so they clicked up on me, trying to shut me up by clowning me with every move I made. I had many fist fights at the end of every game I played, always being outnumbered, though I must say that I found myself being the most aggressive in all the confrontations I had.

Skills!

It was natural for me to kick ass when anyone tried to clown me. Whenever my homies were around and someone tried to clown, they would get quiet; for them they knew this would be the real show. The homies would just watch, looking at me. They knew heads were going to roll and loved the fact that I was an ass kicker. Crowds of people would come to watch me get it up… to fight. The skinny little kid from nowhere. Doing my thing, often being rat packed. I always felt this was how it was done.

Loving the life style, I was the last one to leave the park late at night, only to return in the morning. Soon they knew I had what was called heart.

Heart is any one who is willing to fight on call

Staying late into the night, all the older black males stayed close to the restrooms. Being by myself often with no one to hang with, I was turning into a regular with the older boys, as well. Later I found out that the older boys were the O.G.s from the West Coast Crip Gang.

An O.G. is an original gangster, a senior gang member who has proven his loyalty to the gang

Crew… This is a Criminal Gang!

They said things like, Little homie you’re sick, who are your people? Not knowing what this meant, I just stated, I don’t know, I don’t have any people.

One day I could not help but wonder what was going on in the restroom so often. I decided to enter and that’s just what I did. As I entered the restroom everyone’s back was to me and to my surprise, they were doing drugs, but not smoking. They were doing what I later found out to be cooking heroin and they were preparing to shoot it up.

Then one of the biggest niggas I’ve ever seen in my life turned to me and said, Go outside little homie and let us know if anyone is coming this way. With no questions asked, that is just what I did.

Done Time… A Prison Term Served!

Not knowing that they were gang members fresh out of prison on parole, ages 18 to 28, it felt like I was hooking up with a pro football team, the San Diego Chargers. They were all wearing the color blue I felt it was cool because my favorite color was blue. After weeks of being the O.G.’s look out, they asked me to come in one day.

They said that my help was needed and I jumped at the chance to do my part for my older buddies. Willing to do anything, my new position was to clap my hands around their powerful arms and try to bring up monster veins in their arms to prepare for the penetration of the needle. It was so cool as they nodded to their fixes.

Business Skills…

I kept watch to making sure no one entered the restroom. I was now starting to know who my people were. Talking often about prison life and the ins and outs of the gangster’s life, they spoke freely and at will about the gang life at this place where they would click up and put together their tactics. They spoke of their rival gang members who’s shootings took place on the other side of town. Being a youngster, I would just sit and listen to their stories of the hits that they had put down.

Packing… To carry a Gun

Sometimes I saw pistols that had been used in many shootings. I remember seeing an old ass cowboy gun. It was a Colt 45 with a big ass hammer on top. Thinking to myself "What the fuck do these niggas be doing robbing fucken stage coaches on the streets in the city?" Soon I found out that this would be the farthest thing from the truth.

One day while hanging tight with my big homies, the weather turned bad. It was starting to rain very hard and I was offered a ride home I couldn’t refuse. Boy was I in for a treat. We started to make our way through the empty streets of South East San Diego. The car had turned very quiet; you could hear the niggas breathing. I couldn’t help Thinking What’s going on? Oh well! Whatever it is it don’t concern me.

Cannon… A Hand Gun!

I was on my way home and had no fear – till the Colt 45 came over the seat. One of my O.G. homies started wiping it down with a blue rag. A Rag is a bandana. It’s color identifies your gang. The driver looked at me in the rear view mirror and stated, I’ll drop you off on the way back. I didn’t respond and we kept on rolling, straight to the Eastside. In fact, deep into the Eastside. Later I found out we were deep inside Piru territory. Piru is the universal name for blood. As we parked the car, an old Dodge Dart, everyone started to exit. I didn’t want to show any fear so I exited along with everyone else. We walked a block up and headed down a long dark street. All at once everybody stopped. We’re here, that’s where he lives.

Behind the Gun…Guilty of a Crime!

The words Are you down? were the last thing I heard before the shots rang out.

Waking up the next day I felt really excited about what had gone on that night. We didn’t see any police and I had the feeling inside that what we had done was not wrong; I could not help but think this was so cool.

Common Skills!

The big O.G. homies showed me how to end a beef, with no punches being thrown, no black eyes, no rat pack. They had a problem and they solved it with heat. I must say, due to the fact that I was with them, ‘we handled it’.

Equalizer… A Weapon - Usually a Hand Gun. It makes a weak person equal to

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