Rayshawn was a thick-ass bus of a nigga too. Thumper got him on the treadmill when they first came to the weight room, but Rayshawn was a smokehouse man — his lungs got to hurting, and he was too stonery to focus on anything for long. Soon enough he be sitting on the bench press with his thickness spilling outta him, talking about all the different times he got high.
From Thumper on Parole
Thumper watched Rayshawn blather on like a bong that got turned into a real boy. Rayshawn got a long, yawny voice.
Rayshawn was tall as hell, that was all. He got a tough-nigga reputation and he was notionably a enforcer in the Bloods, but he was just tall. A dumptruck don’t gotta be tough. If you told Rayshawn to beat a nigga up, he’d prolly stop to smoke a blunt with that nigga first. That nigga could distract him with a slice of toast.
Oughta replace Rayshawn with a marijuna furnace, it’d make better conversation. Then get ridda the furnace and keep the marijuana. That nigga ain’t never gonna enforce nothing for the Bloods. The resta the cellbodies talked like he was tough though. Most folks couldn’t even reach his head, much less knock him out. Thumper knew the type.
From Thumper on Parole