# BEASLEY 3 FINAL SCRIPT

VIDEO: Beasley 3 Final.mp4

REWRITTEN: 2026-05-12 09:50:00

SCRIPT 367 OF 686

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Yo what's good evil streets fam, you know the deal we back at it again shouts to all my day ones and subscribers for pulling up every single day Y'all the backbone of this whole operation, the reason this channel keeps climbing. Anybody trying to get their music brand or business promoted hit me at evil streets media at gmail.com and we can work something out. Big respect to everyone sending love through cash app too and if you feeling generous and wanna throw some support this way you can catch me at evil streets TV on cash app every dollar goes right back into keeping this channel alive. Aight y'all let's dive straight into this grimy street tale.

That was the final issue they dealt with on harbor. Right after that peanut started copping his work from Jeff and business took off like crazy. Madame C's whole bloodline got in the mix her sister T. Ann, her husband C.C., even her moms started moving powder. JB was holding court over steak dinners at Charlie Browns locking in deals and seeing who was really loyal and who wasn't. Then came the Harper boys real thoroughbreds who got respect, they started stepping on the family's territory trying to muscle in on the turf. Boone and his brothers were tight with JB but they caught a federal case, Boone got slapped with 22 his brother took 10, they stood tall and took it like real soldiers.

After the Harper's fell harbor became absolute chaos. Madame C packed up and moved to Baldwin court and the whole old structure fell apart, the young bucks didn't give a damn about structure or making money they just wanted to catch bodies. It was Hunters Point warring with itself, big block Garlington West Point Kirkwood Hollister all going at each other's necks. Old friends turned into enemies, parents who came up together were now putting their sons in the ground. The old geez most of them were gone locked behind walls smoked out or completely forgotten.

JB tried to step in and mediate, he called booby whose name was ringing out on every single block. He reached out to Herm Lewis trying to get big block and RBL posse to sit down and talk. Herm told him straight up JB they'll listen to you, the rest of us they don't respect, old geez don't mean nothing no more. One of the big block youngins got knocked in Dublin on a bank job, ran into a Fillmore old G they called the beast. Beast asked him who's left in the point trying to guide y'all, the kid said we ain't got no old geez we done killed them all. Beast beat the brakes off him right there. JB later ran into that same youngster at Waterpin, he apologized but his words still cut deep because deep down it was the truth.

JB's right hand a loyal soldier named D. Lou got gunned down by someone who should have given him a pass, the old ways were dead, the code was shattered and the streets JB once ran had turned into a cemetery.

JB and Donnie's story didn't kick off with dope or dollars, it started with high school hallways and horsepower. Back in Hunters Point JB had played ball with one of Donnie's little brothers, they ran in the same circles but it wasn't until JB hit 21 that their paths really locked in for real. At that point Donnie was clocking hours at Safeway stacking checks and doing a little hustling on the side. JB, he was already deep in the game moving slick and living fast. What really brought them together wasn't the streets, it was the street trophies, cars.

JB and his squad were pushing cougars and mustangs dressed up with vogue tires and white walls, real showroom type flavor. Donnie had his own ride and a reputation for staying fresh, but even with his job and side hustle he could tell something different was fueling JB's engine. He wanted in, not just for the money but for the movement. JB peeped that hunger, he was sharp with reading people and something about Donnie told him he was solid, so he brought him in, no sugarcoating no shortcuts just straight game. What Donnie didn't realize was how deep that game would run.

Their bond grew fast, where others saw JB as untouchable Donnie was the one who got the inside access, they broke bread shared secrets and moved like brothers. And when JB started forming the B team Donnie was right there. The streets had already dubbed their rivals the A team led by JB's own bloodline the Tatums, but when JB stepped into the light that B wasn't just branding, it stood for beastly and he made sure folks knew it. Donnie helped design the B team starter jackets, navy blue with bold silver lettering stitched across the chest, every jacket was a badge of honor, they weren't just a crew they were a unit, a structure, an enterprise.

They linked with Lil D and the six nine mob across the bridge bringing Frisco and East Oakland together in a way the Bay hadn't seen. Giants gear on one side A's gear on the other, it wasn't just street credit it was culture. They'd run softball games on Sundays, no business no bricks no bullets just community and competition, losers cop the pizzas. That Sunday truce gave them balance and Monday through Saturday it was back to work, from eight to five like a real business, you had to be somebody to get them outside those hours. That discipline, it's what kept them sharp clean and ten steps ahead, they weren't some corner crew this was an operation.

What's wild is that the biggest threat JB faced wasn't the police or rival sets, it was family, his own blood tried to tear him down, but the ones he brought in, the outsiders he turned into brothers, they held him down harder than anyone. Donnie, even while running tow trucks during the day never stopped riding for the B team. One afternoon he pulled up to Herz the Beef Delicatessen and there was JB out front broom in hand keeping things tight. Donnie told him to ride out but JB was serious about the grind, even sweeping his own storefront. Mid conversation some clowns sped by and clipped Donnie's driver side mirror, mirror shattered, vibe changed.

JB dropped the broom like a mic, hopped in the tow truck without a second thought, they peeled off after the car chasing it all the way to the Potrero Street police station. Dude jumped out like he was big bad but JB was already grabbing a shovel, Donnie had a bat and both were ready to make him famous. Before anything popped off the boys in blue poured out, but instead of checking the aggressor they locked JB and Donnie up, called them dope dealers, no bail, sat them overnight. That incident, just one of many that bonded them beyond the game. Truth is Donnie had been locked in with JB since that first case and from the way they rode together, both in the streets and behind bars it was clear loyalty wasn't talked about in the B team, it was proven.

In the shadows of San Francisco JB ignited a fire, not with bullets but with bricks. It wasn't a shootout that rocked the bay, it was a full blown price war. The streets called it the clash between the A team and the B team but behind the scenes it was blood against blood, cousins, kin, all descendants of the Nutes found themselves in an all out hustle standoff. JB never lifted a hand in violence against his own but he sure as hell hit them where it hurt, their pockets. The A team had iced him out early in the game, outside of Chill none of them laced his palms with an ounce or helped him find footing. So JB did what real hustlers do, he built an empire from scratch.

Sal and Edgar were the spark, through them JB started picking up bricks at 36k a pop and flipping ounces for $1,500 when the streets were used to $1,800. That undercut sliced the market open, business started booming, word spread and suddenly even the A team had to match his numbers. JB had officially disrupted the ecosystem. With the extra weight moving JB relocated from Daly City to a three bedroom condo in South San Francisco, five keys at 30k a piece chopped to ounces flooded every neighborhood through his crew.

But when Sal and Edgar split JB ended up with Sal, the fast talking slick type he never trusted. Sal fumbled, selling him bad work, JB tried to get it right for three days, Sal wouldn't budge but offered to discount next time, JB wasn't having it. Edgar, the more grounded half was still in the picture, JB met him at the diamond store downtown where Edgar handed him 10 keys in a shopping bag. JB dropped half the payment and walked out with those bricks knowing Edgar was the type who kept his word, no games no stunts. From that point forward they were locked in solid, Edgar became his main source and the foundation for everything that followed.

JB's story is one that echoes through the Bay Area streets even today, a testament to how one man's hunger and loyalty can reshape an entire system. He came from nothing, built something from scratch, and created a legacy that wasn't just about moving weight or making money it was about structure, respect, and the unbreakable bonds forged in the struggle. The B team represented more than a crew, it represented a movement that brought people together through culture, discipline, and real brotherhood. Though the game changed and the old ways faded, JB and those who rode with him proved that true loyalty transcends blood and that sometimes the family you choose becomes stronger than the family you're born into. His name still rings bells in Hunters Point, South San Francisco, and across the entire Bay, a reminder that even in the darkest corners of the streets, a real one can build something that outlasts the game itself.