‘Course Sammy Smoove likes to keep his skillz tight so every now and again I gotta grab the heater, go to the gun range and get my blast on. The Inland Empire is just the place for this sorta ish, ’cause there’s a mob of shady places with questionable licenses that are quick to overlook some of the lesser felonies that would usually keep a stunna from busting off. I’m pretty tight with the ballas down at the Magnum Range and Family Shooting Center, so last weekend, me and my homegirl Thuggish Ruggish rode over there to grip on the nina and put out some shells.

When I’m fixin’ to blaze, I almost always choose the Glock 17, ’cause it’s tha illest. It’s so flossy that when it’s viewed from an obtuse angle, the light that hits your retina looks blingy. Word Booty. It was Thuggish Ruggish’s first time at the range, so I was showing her how to hold her thang just like they do in the gangster films. Ya know, how if you hold that piece sideways and sorta snap your wrist when you’re shooting, them bullets come out faster, and you look toughacious.

So we’re doin’ our thing, just shootin’ shit, when these two dumb looking sumumabitches get in the lane next to us. They pull a damn arsenal outta their gymbag and start acting a fool. I mean, these fools were double-fisting their gats, just ruining targets. Thuggish Ruggish is a hard-type thugette, but she was losing her concentration, and these posers were getting close to flipping my psycho switch. So I turn to one of them slack-jawed yokels and told him, "you’re foul and it’s duck hunting season."

I was just about to bring the ruckus, when the enforcer who works at the range (who incidentally has threatened to shoot Sam Dawg every time I’ve gone), stepped up and cooled the situation down. Good thing too, ‘cause I really can’t afford to be catching any more cases right now. Anywho, Magnum Range stunnas up, outta control suckas down. For service with a smile and the ability to defuse armed stand-offs, Magnum Range gets four carats outta a possible five on the bling-bling scale. It’s at 9049 9th St. in Rancho. Check it out my soldias, and ’til then, keep it real out on the battlefield. NEXT WEEK: Breakin’ down the lingo for those who just don’t know…