When I was a kid I wanted to be hardcore. I wanted to be a thug. I wanted people to see me and run, and not in the way they do now. I wanted to strike fear in the hearts of other guys so they would think I could kick their ass and have sex with their sister.

I’ve already talked about fighting, but now I’m teaching you how to act the part. Sure, this might piss off your parents, but isn’t that what life’s all about? FECK YOU MOMMY AND DADDY! I’m a big boy now!

So you’ve got a closet full of L.L. Bean and Hanes. I can help you take these bland threads and transform them in to some ghetto fabulous-ass shit! People will quiver when you come around. You will get loot and mad bitches. And mad respect, too. People will respect you because you will look like you can kick some serious ass and you probably have a 9-milli in your underpants.

I can’t help you with the tinted Bimmer with deep-dish pizza rims, though.

To help you through this process, I’m sharing before and after pictures so you can get an idea of the final product.

On top of the following clothing, use the Izzy language. Randomly insert “z” into words like dog, bitch and homeslice. “What the fiznuck’s iznup my biznitch?” That’s all gangsta’ for “Hey, how are you?” Or you could go overboard and be all like “Yizno mizny miznutha fiznucka! Diznam dizog, yizall izis kiznillin’ mizne!” I don’t know what that means, but is sure sounds ghetto fabulous.

Also, talk about smoking phat blunts and when people give you bad shit, make up a fake rap about bammer weed. Bammer is a ghetto word. “Hey buddy! How are you?” is a bammer question. “Whassup my nizzies?” isn’t bammer.

When you talk about where you’re from, don’t say “I’m from Boise!” Say shit like, “Get off my niznuts fool, I’m from B-Town.” B-Town sounds more fabulous than Boise. If you say Boise I’ll kick your ass myself.

Notice in this first picture that all I’m wearing is a plain T-shirt, regular jeans and some sneakers. No hat. No jewelry. Probably no panties. And NO FUCKIN’ SENSE! What a tool! I pose no visual threat. Sure, I may look sane, but how many sane people can whoop ass? It’s the crazy thugs we need to worry about!

1. Rip off the sleeves on your ordinary shirt. Take one of the sleeves and thuggishly fashion it over your muh’fuckin’ dome. That’s some ill shit.

2. Make some crazy gang sign with your extra hand. You should always have one hand on your ballsac, which means you always have one extra hand. Unless you’re drizninkin’ some 40’s, which is acceptable.

3. The cutoff sleeves look makes you ghetto fab. For realz homey. Don’t be afraid to show off those pythons.

4. Wear lots of jewelry. It can be your moms shit. All the real gangsta’s have something dipped in platinum dangling from their necklace. You can use anything as long as it’s dipped in platinum. Like an egg beater. Or a platinum baby Jesus fetus on an anchor.

5. Because you’re probably too soft to get real tattoos, draw some on your arms. It’s a dead giveaway if you don’t have any tattoos.

6. Your boxers should be protruding from your pants. If your boxers are not in sight, you are a thug poser. Tighty-whitey’s are acceptable.

7. Your pants should be sagging right above your big thug dick. About two inches from your pube line should work okay. If you have your pants pulled up you are going to get your ass kicked.

8. Grab your balls.

9. Wear a shiney watch. At least one watch. One is the minimum. It is acceptable to wear up to three expensive watches on one arm. You can also mix and match gold with silver. Real thugs from the ghetto only sport the finest wiznatches.

10. Pull up a pant leg. We call this “claiming,” and shit. This tells everyone, “Hey bitches! I’m a thug!”

Now you should know what the dilly is. Go out and represent. Get off the hizzy my nizzy. True. True.
There are other accessorising options for the thug look. I recommend wrapping a piece of foil around a tooth (also known as a Toof) for that “Dirty South” thug look. And you can also color in some facial hair with a marker. It’s never a bad idea to have a 40 ounce bottle of malt liquor, and sporting a clip-on cell phone is big pimpin’, too.

And now in closing, I will offer you this rap just in case someone challenges your thuggish ruggish-ness. You have to pretend like you’re making it up, because thugs don’t do pre-made raps. They only do freestyle. Try and get one of your homeys to beat box so you don’t sound stupid.

“What the fiznuck diznuck?
Pull my 9-milli and I free it like Willy!
Pop a cap in you ear,
And one in your fake crystal chandelier.
You wanna’-be thug bitch,
I’ll spank you with a switch.
I’ll pull it off a tree and then I’ll just say
WHASSA HIZZY MA’ NIZZY?
Bling. Bling.”

From the hard truth soldiers Guerilla Funk