He was a guy who was well respected around pimps because he had all the jewelry, all the cards, and he was always fly. How your pimp looked was a reflection on you. You wanted your pimp to look good. This was how low your self-esteem is. It’s not even about you anymore. When I tell this story and I talk like this, I cant even fucking believe I went for this shit. But that’s just where I was in my life. He took me in, put me in a condo in the city, gave me a convertible to ride in, showered me with jewelry and gold and furs for gifts, for holidays, for birthdays, but he bought all that hot and stolen. He had girls who were boosting for him, so it was free. You know, and he’s giving it to the other girls to keep them happy, so it’s just this big all ring of illegal, organized crime. He owned an auto body shop. He was involved in a lot of other things; he had insurance fraud things going on with cars. They were buying cars from salvage yards and they were saying they were fixing them and they weren’t. I did one for them and I got a check for $20,000. I went right to the check casher place, signed it over, and gave him all the money. The feds came on us, 23 of us got indicted for that insurance fraud back in the mid 80s. He did the time for everybody; everyone else just got a year probation because they wanted him. They knew he was the ringleader of the whole thing.