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so that we would arrive in Harlem just as the show was ending and everyone was being let out.
    Let me tell you, as foolish as this may sound, we definitely were not the only native New Yorkers that did this. As a matter of fact, people would come from as far away as New Jersey, Connecticut, and parts of Pennsylvania to do exactly what we did. Before, during, and after the show, 125th Street would always be jammed with cars and people. And just like us, the majority of the people were there for one reason, and that was to profile.
    Just as the saying went, New York was truly the city that never slept. It would be nearly 2:00 A.M ., yet there would be more people on 125th Street at 2:00 A.M ., than there were at 2:00 P.M . And always, after the crowds of people from 125th Street began to disperse, they would make their way further uptown to a spot called Willie Burgers. Willie Burgers was a little corner foodstand set-up that had no dining area. But let me tell you, the food from Willie Burgers, hands down, knocked McDonald’s, Roy Rogers, Wendy’s, Hardee’s, Denny’s, Burger King, White Castle, and any place else out of the box when it came to burgers, fries, shakes, or whatever.
    The scene in front of Willie Burgers would always be mobbed with people who wanted to grab something to eat before going home, people who wanted to get their last bit of “mac” on, or people who wanted to do both.
    The majority of our quests uptown were usually by way of Xavier’s Toyota. But no matter what kind of car we drove in, our routine was always the same. We would drive to any spot on 125th Street that was within at least two blocks of the Apollo and park the car. Usually we had to double park due to the large volume of cars. After we would park we would get out and stand in front of the car or alongside of it and parlay as we watched hundreds of cars drive by.
    The cars that drove by would be packed with girls or packed with niggas—it was either one or the other. Rarely did you see a mixture in the same ride. Every now and then we would spot a celebrity or two driving by in a car or a limo.
    Many other people also parked their cars in the middle of 125th Street just to lamp and clock everybody that passed by. And after profiling we would hop back into the car and drive up and down 125th Street just to see everything and everybody. We would pass vendors selling Muslim oils, T-shirts, snap shots, bootleg video and audio tapes, and the New York original street DJ tapes by DJs such as DJ Kid Capri.
    Whenever any guys went to Harlem they would expect to see some beautiful honeys. But on Wednesday night it was off the hook with women. I mean on a Wednesday night women would be everywhere. Not just “run of the mill” females either. I’m talking major beauty queens—the thick Janet Jackson types.
    To Fourth Crew this was tons of fun. We were always either drunk, high off weed, or both when we visited Harlem. The atmosphere of 125th Street on a Wednesday night was always slammin’. Just listening to the sounds of loud music blasting from the cars, talking to pretty young ladies, or just marinating was what I and just about all of Fourth Crew lived for.
    June 19 was a smooth night in terms of no clashes breaking out. Of course, that night, like any other Wednesday night, we heard gunshots going off here and there, but those random gun shots had become commonplace. In fact, it was to the point where even cops on foot patrol were used to the gunshots. When the gunshots would ring out, most of the cops would usually remain at their posts and not even investigate where the shots were coming from.
    Surprisingly, with as much as we visited 125th Street, we never got into any beef. Even Five-O would always be cool and just let us do our thing. Fourth Crew always came simply to chill and have a good time. Actually, we knew that we had better come to Harlem in peace—that’s if we wanted to make