You Gonna Tell me LeBron is Any Better than your local Hood Legend?
- Thread starter I.V.
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Big Loop = only brotha (other thanPenny) to dunk without jumpin 
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madness
Taking my talents to South Beach
have to give the spurs credit, they knew the only way they could stop bron was to cut off the AC
too bad they can't do it again
Heat in 5
too bad they can't do it again
Heat in 5
Slaimon Khan Shah
SLAIMON KHAN SHAH = SHAOLIN MONK/S OF ISLAAM
May God guide Lebron to Islam.
have to give the spurs credit, they knew the only way they could stop bron was to cut off the AC
too bad they can't do it again
Heat in 5
Let me tell you about some heat, bruh. I was at the all regional messianic championships sponsored by Morton Salt. The local squad had this kid The Filthyfish. He only shot midrange jumpers. 12-18 footers all day, raining down like the great flood. B-nyce's squad got a lottery bid to play in the Morton tournament, but had to play 3 play-in games on Palm Sunday. It was 129 degrees out (it was a dry heat, tho) and he had to take Momma to church. So, he didn't make it to the first play-in game until the fourth quarter, and his squad was down 31. He slipped out during the second Psalm pretending to take a bathroom break, and sprinted 3.8 miles in his church shoes, chinos, and short sleeve button down. He didn't miss a shot, but the pavement was so hot, the soles of his kicks melted. God strike me down if I'm lying, they were making chopped-cheese sammiches right there on the baseline, sizzling. So he wins the first play in game... and then takes off barefoot carrying what remains of church shoes that his dad left him (his dead went away on business for the weekend, man... easy with those stereotypes) ... he gets back just in time for the third reading, and Blaine (there are no nicknames before god) delivers a BEAUTIFUL story from the book of Job. Stand sit kneel stand sit, amen and he's outta there, sprinting back to the Morton Tourney.
He shows up in the second half of the next game, and team after team is struck down by the plague of b-nyce. He runs through them like wasps, bounds over them like frogs, and breaks the ankles of the first player on each team that guards him. Literrally breaks their ankles with a crossover so mean and so deceiful the locals started calling it The Judas. Damn, he never saw it coming.
So Blaine's squad, Team L.I.N.T. (Loop is nicer, tho) makes it to the final and faces off against The Filthyfish. At this point it's 138 degrees out with 137% humidity (monsoon season), Loop's team is drained, as this is about to be their 8th game, which seemed a little O.D. for a 4 team tournament, but who am I but a messenger, ya dig? So team LINT is stretching out, snacking on some chopped cheeses, and trying to get ready when their opponents enter carrying Filthyfish on a chair. The team was known for their swarming defense, where they would basically link arms and circle around the ball handler... they had trap game like frank white. As the temp rose to a buck-40, people started passing out. They'd have to take timeouts to revive the refs, and fan the old ladies that had showed up to cheer on their nieces and nephews. By the fourth quarter B-nyce and Mordecai (filthyfish) each had 68, and neither had missed a shot... but B-nyce's last pair of 3's had hit some rim on the way through, so you could tell he was tired. With about ten second left, b-nyce is basically on the edge of delirium when The Filthfish calls a timeout to draw up the last play... 46 screens and then a 15 footer from just off the elbow, he called it The Bitter and the Sweet. B-nyce had scouted this team while teaching blind kids to cook at the local school, so he had it diagnosed... but he's seeing double, so when the play is ran , it looks like 128 screens (I see you trying to check my math... but you gotta remember, b-nyce had a lazy eye) Anyway, after coming off screen 60 from a guy that looked like Martin Gortat's bigger badder uncle he realizes he's not going to be able to keep up... so he kicks what's left of his foot down, and the penny shoots OUT OF HIS LOAFER, knocking the ball from Mordy's hands. Now, that was his good foot, and with no shoe on it, the pavement is COOKING the soles of his dogs, so he kicks off the left food, scoops up the ball and is heading up the right sideline, and since this was a hood tournament, and the bleachers were packed, you basically had people standing ON the court. One of the locals reaches out for the steal, trying slow Nyce, when he hits the illest cartwheel anybody had ever seen, and dunks his bare feet into two onlookers Styrofoam cups. Sweet relief! He keep his dribble, takes off from the freethrow line and bangs it home with one hand. He hangs on the rim for a second (to make sure nobody was underneath him, not to show off... we're talking about a gentleman here) and when lands, orange gatorade explodes out of his cup/shoes and the crows screams OOPPA! B-nyce helped three people jump-start their cars, and then rode off into the sunset.
But when the court cleared, hours later, there was still one fan sitting in the stands in disbelief. He'd flown in from the west coast hoping to sign this mythic legend to a deal. But he couldn't believe what he'd seen. He walked onto the court, desperate for something, ANYTHING that would prove this game had happened... looking for a way to somehow be able to carry the legacy of what went on (cameras back then didn't work above 139 degrees, science) ... and there, on the court, with trash, and melted sneakers, and Filthfish jersey-tees strewn about... was one of the cups that b-nyce had used as sneakers... he picked it up to inspect, it... no believing that it could survive such a thunderous dunk... and stuck to the bottom... was the penny from Blaine's loafer. And young phil had an idea....
...B-Nyce designed the original penny foams. :JFKBOSS:
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Son said sponsored by Morton Salt. 
Seriously... is their any other type of salt?
Seriously... is their any other type of salt?
iPod Raheem 2.0
D, mother****er, D.
Gotdamn shame how they did Imam, though.
Had a homie that happened to be in Riker's same time Imam was doing his bid. Imam was a political prisoner forreal. After those pigs gave that young brotha 41 in the Bronx, Imam was furious. In a fit of rage and indignation, Imam found a racist cop who had for years been terrorizing his hood in Queens and gave him 41 punches and stomps, every one in honor of those bullets that were aimed at Brotha Amadou. But unlike the cops, Imam didn't miss. Every shot connected. Beat that racist cac to within an inch of his life. Then that nikka started organizing the whole hood and began plotting an attack on NYPD as a staff, police force, and a crew (if you wanted to be down with them, it was fukk you, too 
). nikka was just fed up, brehs. Tried to get his lil bro to join, too, but Aman was talking bout marchin and shyt. Imam wasn't tryna hear all that. He was ready for some action. But that's the way it's always been: Aman was a little more turn the other cheek and Imam was about that by any means necessary. And that's kind of why they fell out, but that's another story. Anyway, somebody dimed Imam out (fukk you expect, it's New York) before he could do anything significant. Pigs caught up with Imam and threw him in Riker's on some bullshyt charges. nikkas wonder why NY's been soft the past decade and a half. Well, it ain't cause some lanky, long-haired nikka played Godzilla on some fake NY skyline. It's 'cause Imam wasn't there to provide the leadership and identity NY needed. Imagine Birmingham with no Martin. Harlem with no Malcolm. The Black Panthers after the FBI cut it's head off. Well, that's been NY without Iman. shyt lost its soul. Anyway, if Imam wasn't on that militant, black power, let my people go shyt he might be balling out in the Association. Imam was a fukking monster on that blacktop. They called that nikka "X," partly in tribute to his Muslim faith and partly in reference to his street ball nickname: the "Xecutioner." nikka lived up to his name, too. Had the physique of a Anthony Mason, the intensity of a KG, the toughness of a Zach Randolph, the grittiness of a Charles Oakley, and the mentality of the Honorable Louis Farrakhan. And that nikka was a fukking live wire. He infamously took on all the C.O.s a couple years back, bunch a Rick Ross, Captain Hadley-looking mafukkas, one on five. Beat these nikkas dolo in 5 straight games of 21. Pigs had to do him 5 favors as a result. Had the C.O.s baking bean pies and bringing it his cell for a week straight, then he made them remove all pork from the cafeteria. shyt was all lovely until he had the C.O.s play that godbody, 5 %, Wu-Tang shyt over the loud speakers. Warden was tight; shut that shyt down immediately. Felt that shyt was too embarrassing. Had to make an example out of Imam's militancy. Put that nikka Imam in the hole and he's been there ever since. #FreeImam #FreeXecutioner #FreeX
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Gotdamn shame how they did Imam, though.
Ladies called him Dante, tho... The Original Smooth Brother Dante X'em :downwhiteguy:
ThaRealness
Superstar
This reminds me of the homie Chicken Wang from back in the day. He may have been overweight, but he could slam it down like none other.
I'm remember Chicken Wang... He's used to play with Cheddar Fred and the Cheese Chasers. Wang couldn't play in indoor tournaments because he weighed 630 lbs and used to crack the floorboards. Dude had the meanest post game, he was 6'4, but his spin move would send you into the third row. And his footwork! @Malta be blessed, it was the cleanest since Johnson & Johnson. Reverse pivots, up n' unders, he didn't have a dream shake, it was a nightmare shudder. Had defenders wakin' up in cold sweats.
And the homey never got tired, you'd think Big fella, wear him out, make him run a little... But nah. He's play two games, eat a whole pizza, that was topped with General Tso's, and then COVERED with another pizza!... then play two more. He owned one of the original fusion restaurants in the Bronx... but it didn't catch, because people weren't ready for Chinese food served on slices of thin crust pizza.
Damn shame what happened to Wang, tho... hood tried to play him, pretending he died choking on an entire rotisserie chicken. shyt is grimy, pretty sure it was ray-ray that he took down in the KFC (Kennedy Fried Chicken) championships, still so salty after all these years. But everyone that knows him knows he was type 7 diabetic.
Had to bury him in 4 different plots. The only dude that could ever guard him gave the eulogy... B-nyce. It was beautiful man, true poetry, not a dry eye in the house. B-nyce coulda been the hood Joel Osteen if he cared about fame like that, but he wasn't into religion for the money, which is why he ran a service out of his basement every tuesday. For the true believers. Rumor is even Big Loop shed one during the ceremony, but it might have been sweat, he'd just played a game of 197 up the block for $3K, which he donated to buy all of Chicken Wang's plots... (y'all probably just play 21, huh? That's why you're not a legend)