It all started a few years ago with a handful of young, hungry hustlers—kids who’d grown up in the roughest neighborhoods, tired of the usual grind. They didn’t want to sell dope, and they weren’t interested in petty street beefs. What they wanted was freedom, and to them, freedom meant cash—fast. They learned everything they could about cars, hacking electronics, breaking into alarms, disabling tracking systems. Slowly but surely, they started taking luxury cars from the rich, from the ballplayers and the drug dealers who thought their rides were untouchable. They didn’t just steal cars; they sent a message: If you’re living large in East Side, nothing’s off-limits.
That loss hit hard, but it also solidified their resolve. YCB wasn’t just about making money anymore. Every car they stole, every job they pulled, was for Nemo. They wore his name like a badge, and they made sure no one forgot it. "Chase a bag, chase the dream, but chase it for Nemo," they’d say before hitting a new target. Nemo’s memory was tattooed into their hustle—on their skin, in their hearts, and in every car they stole. Every time they’d take a luxury ride or make a clean getaway, they did it for him. YCB wasn’t just chasing bags anymore—they were chasing redemption, honor, and the name of their fallen brother.
Now, YCB’s name is feared across the East Side. The rich folks, the ballers, the flashy dealers—they’ve all felt the sting of losing a car to YCB. There are rumors that no matter how tight you think your security is, they’ll still find a way in. Some say they’ve got insiders working for dealerships or luxury car shops. Others claim they’ve got tech whizzes who can bypass any tracking system. But whatever the truth is, no one knows exactly how they operate. All they know is that if your car is stolen in East Side, it’s almost certainly a YCB job.
To the people in the streets, YCB isn’t just a group of car thieves. They’re a reminder of the harsh reality of living in a city where nothing is safe, not even the things you think are untouchable. And for YCB, it’s all about legacy. Their stolen cars might get sold or swapped out, but the one thing they can’t take from them is Nemo’s name. That’s something they carry with them every time they make a move—whether it’s on a late-night mission or in the stolen car they’re driving with the windows down, chasing the next big score.
Fear runs through the streets when YCB rolls up, but so does respect. They’re not just a gang—they’re a family, bound by loyalty and the ghost of Nemo’s memory. To cross them is to cross a line that no one in East Side wants to test. Because when you’re chasing a bag, and you’re chasing it for someone who can’t be replaced, there’s nothing that can stop you.