The Story Of LOUISIANA'S LEGENDARY KINGPIN: Glenn Metz

Back in the late 80s and creeping into the early 90s, down in the shadows of New Orleans, there was 1 name that moved through the city like a death sentence whispered in an alley: Glenn Metz. If you was outside back then, you already know — his name didn’t travel, it echoed. Folks spoke it low, like saying it too loud might summon something they wasn’t ready for. Metz wasn’t just another hustler flooding the block. Nah — he was the architect of a whole operation that ran through New Orleans like a hurricane with no mercy. Alongside his brother, Cordell “Jethro” Metz, he carved out a drug empire that turned entire housing projects into strongholds. The kind of grip they had? That wasn’t regular street control — that was military-grade dominance. They mapped out corners, staircases, breezeways, whole complexes like they were playing chess and everybody else was stuck in checkers. From 85 all the way up into 92, the Metz machine was moving weight through the city at a pace most crews could only dream about. Kilos touched down like clockwork — stacks on stacks, flipping into numbers that didn’t even sound real to the average person trying to make rent. And everywhere that organization went, violence wasn’t just a possibility — it was part of the business model. Murders, bodies dropping, attempts, messages left in blood… people knew better than to cross that line with them. By the time the Feds finally put together what they needed, they came with a case heavy enough to crush anybody still standing in their way.