Ferdinand Beaumont Villalobos

Do you know a thug? One of the types who walk out in the winter cold with nothing on but a tank top? You know one of those hard niggas who tote gats and keep a few extra clips just in case they gotta kill them all? Well I know one of them very well indeed. As a matter of fact, he lives with me! He's always on that orange kool-aid too. Just one sip of that fluid and he's all 6's and 7's. There are worse things than his habits. This guy wrote all of Tupac's music and made the first steel plated 9 mm automatic with a steel plated silencer. (In his basement with home made tools) There have been number of times that when i roll up to the crib i catch him on the corner of our entrance slinging dimes to who ever stops by and asks for some dope. The problem that i am having is getting this mofo up outta my crib man. Last week he lost his temper and i very kindly asked him to refrain from his outrage, and he proceeded to punch a whole in the wall big enough to put a beach ball through. He has a new recruit as of recently named Furio Livingston, they could be brothers the way they look so much alike. These two enjoy dipping out at night and raising mortal hell! One day they came back covered in lip burns and reeking of smoke. One night when i happen to come early Ferdinand had over 16 girlies in our place and a few of them were naked, and every one of them were three sheets to the wind!!!! One of them threw a fuckin bottle of milk at me! That day i tried to lay down the law and show ferdinand just who runs what around our humble abode, but the turn out was not good. The next morning he's in the kitchen cooking up some rocks to hit a lick and get out on his own to do his own thing. The only thing i could do was reach a compromise, and the only thing he would do is make jokes about my ethnicity and call me names like "jose" and texican. That fucker. Anyhow, i got me some plans to deal with likes of ol ferdinand. He's been thuggin all his life, trying to live right, and asks me what i know about that, while he's drinking hennessy and smoking the place out, i figure he's got to have a spot somewhere where he's stashing the goods and his money, once i figure that little nugget out, it'll all be over but the crying. Until then scrappians keep the sun on your back and wind in your face. Nikia goddamn Jones out!!!!!!