how come gangsters back then looked like bodybuilders

[Wise]

There was more free time. Today with free time people are just stuck to their phones

 

[Ol’Otis]

I didn't know that.

I think the guards were getting their ass whipped

 

[Ol’Otis]

There was more free time

Yeah and no

you had to really be active and come outside for damn near everything

 

[get these nets]

false
Tookie already said that was never the intent

???
You might be confusing Tookie's comments about consolidating different gangs under the Crib/Crip banner with what the original intent of some of those smaller gangs were.

Spoiler

 

[M4T]

Flo Rida looks more tough than most rappers, plus he actually owns a Bugatti.

 

[The Guru]

Lifting and rampant steroid abuse.

 

[Killalex]

Because prison rape was rampant.

The following is an excerpt from Monster kodys book
And when I looked at B.T. his expression was one of utter helplessness. I felt a little sorry for him, but I was a hard-line conservative and felt that this was the life he’d chosen. Unlike the slaves, he had joined the Crips. He knew the job was dangerous when he took it. Module 4800—this testing ground—was for some a breaking station. We had started calling it Forty-eight Hours, because if you could survive the first forty-eight hours—the noise, fights, stabbings, cross-burning by the pigs, tribalism, set tripping, interrogations, and being crossed, doubled-crossed, and triple-crossed—then you were in. B.T. couldn’t handle it and froze up on the first occasion of hand-to-hand and knife-to-body combat. He’d left his homies out there alone—a fatal mistake. Now his homies left him to Fat Rat’s desires.

“Monsta, you can go on to sleep now, cuz. I can handle it from here.”

Fat Rat said this as if I’d actually been helping him work B.T. over.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll kick on back now. I’ve seen enough for today.”

I knew what Rat was up to. He was ready to sodomize B.T. and felt reluctant while I was awake. It made me feel like a conspirator. I hadn’t said a word in protest to Fat Rat about his treatment of B.T., and by not saying anything I felt like I was condoning it. Silence gives consent. When I opened my eyes to protest, Fat Rat had B.T. out from under the bed and was ready to rape him.

“Naw, Rat, I can’t let you trip that hard. Don’t do cuz like that.” I’d swung my legs over the side of the bunk and was looking directly at Fat Rat.

“Aw, Monsta, this ain’t got nuttin’ to do wit’ you, homie. Hey look,” he said, grabbing B.T. on the ass, “he got enough ass fo’ the both of us, Monsta.”

“Stall cuz out, Fat Rat. You done already ruined him in the gang world. He can’t go home. Now you wanna take his manhood, too? Stall him out, Rat.”

“Damn! Monsta…”

Fat Rat looked genuinely disappointed. I guess he figured he had done all of this and rightly deserved a piece of ass. But I couldn’t let that happen, not while I was in the cell. Fat Rat slid B.T. back under the bed and went to sleep.

This shyt is just
Using dudes like sex dolls

 

[MalickSyXShabbaz]

“he got enough ass fo’ the both of us, Monsta.”

That was the most distressing part.

Second part is that all his fellow "crips" were desensitized to his fafgotry

 

[Cryptocurrency Scarface]

lol.

dead-ass this excerpt reminds me of the story i heard about my cousin who was about to rape one of my pops' friends upstate back in the '80s. he was sizing him up. when he asked him where hes from, that basically saved him, cuz not long afterwards - the connection to my dad was made and they got cool. he prolly protected him too.

Your cousin Fleece Johnson ?

that’s some wild shyt I’d be ashamed to be related to a booty goon

 

[livindajetlife]

Because prison rape was rampant.

The following is an excerpt from Monster kodys book
And when I looked at B.T. his expression was one of utter helplessness. I felt a little sorry for him, but I was a hard-line conservative and felt that this was the life he’d chosen. Unlike the slaves, he had joined the Crips. He knew the job was dangerous when he took it. Module 4800—this testing ground—was for some a breaking station. We had started calling it Forty-eight Hours, because if you could survive the first forty-eight hours—the noise, fights, stabbings, cross-burning by the pigs, tribalism, set tripping, interrogations, and being crossed, doubled-crossed, and triple-crossed—then you were in. B.T. couldn’t handle it and froze up on the first occasion of hand-to-hand and knife-to-body combat. He’d left his homies out there alone—a fatal mistake. Now his homies left him to Fat Rat’s desires.

“Monsta, you can go on to sleep now, cuz. I can handle it from here.”

Fat Rat said this as if I’d actually been helping him work B.T. over.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll kick on back now. I’ve seen enough for today.”

I knew what Rat was up to. He was ready to sodomize B.T. and felt reluctant while I was awake. It made me feel like a conspirator. I hadn’t said a word in protest to Fat Rat about his treatment of B.T., and by not saying anything I felt like I was condoning it. Silence gives consent. When I opened my eyes to protest, Fat Rat had B.T. out from under the bed and was ready to rape him.

“Naw, Rat, I can’t let you trip that hard. Don’t do cuz like that.” I’d swung my legs over the side of the bunk and was looking directly at Fat Rat.

“Aw, Monsta, this ain’t got nuttin’ to do wit’ you, homie. Hey look,” he said, grabbing B.T. on the ass, “he got enough ass fo’ the both of us, Monsta.”

“Stall cuz out, Fat Rat. You done already ruined him in the gang world. He can’t go home. Now you wanna take his manhood, too? Stall him out, Rat.”

“Damn! Monsta…”

Fat Rat looked genuinely disappointed. I guess he figured he had done all of this and rightly deserved a piece of ass. But I couldn’t let that happen, not while I was in the cell. Fat Rat slid B.T. back under the bed and went to sleep.

fakkit ass nikka idgaf.. you ain’t gangsta you just a fukkin fakkit that’s scared to admit it in real life

 

[jilla82]

people in general are in worse shape.

look how fat American women are.
People are lazy physically and mentally

 

[diggy]

Prisons had weights, now they have tofu.

 

[Dusty Bake Activate]

If you contrast street dudes from yesteryear to today, the back in the day cats look bigger, stronger and more like grown men.

The ones today look smaller, skinnier wear tighter clothes and just look more like young little boys when they’re 18-21ish. They also seem to be more comfortable smiling and laughing in public unlike old school G’s who always have to be serious and mean-mugging. They’ll kill you the same though.

 

[Big Boss]

“he got enough ass fo’ the both of us, Monsta.”

 

[Yehuda]

Why do I feel like that "B.T." story is fake... "he got enough ass fo the both of us, Monsta"