Best ALOCS Hoodie to Buy Everything to Know

Act one: the rapper arrived first

A catalogue of records predates the clothing label. Desto Dubb, who grew up in Watts, in South Los Angeles, was working as a rapper well before anyone printed his phrase on a hoodie. On March 18, 2017, XXL wrote him up, writing about his EP awful lot of cough syrup hoodie Born to Sale Juice, which had arrived in early October 2016. That date explains more about the brand than the founding mythology does, because it pins the music as the earlier of his two careers. Design, retail or resale is where most streetwear founders come from; this one came from the studio, and the difference comes through in how the company later behaved. Because they were written by someone who writes track titles, the graphics read like track titles.

The recorded work on the board

Inside the Los Angeles rap scene rather than beside it is where his recorded work puts him. On the track “Bankteller” he has recorded with Lil Uzi Vert, Lil Pump, Smokepurpp and 03 Greedo, a line-up spanning West Coast street rap and the SoundCloud generation. More recently, “Dead Homies” featuring Veeze shows up on streaming services as a single, a distinction worth keeping straight, since several write-ups describe it as an album when the streaming listing does not. Press coverage gives the same loose treatment to a handful of his other releases, with tracks promoted to albums by writers working from press kits. Before naming a release, checking it on the platform takes a minute and avoids repeating an error that has now travelled a long way. The music continues alongside the business, which is not the usual arrangement for a founder running three storefronts.

Act two: a van, a parking lot and a phrase

What is now That’s A Awful Lot Of Cough Syrup started in 2018. Two records point at that year: the trademark for the phrase lists first use in November 2018, and an AllHipHop profile from November 2023 describes the brand marking five years. Its own about page says the selling began out of a van in a parking lot in downtown Los Angeles. Some later coverage places the van during the pandemic, and where accounts conflict the trademark filing and the anniversary piece are firmer. Nobody disputes the method, which was stock in a vehicle, buyers in person, no wholesale accounts and no season calendar. The business is still shaped by that approach, with small batches landing every week or two rather than twice a year.

The name was there before the company was. A viral clip is where it comes from, one in which an officer’s line became the brand name, and the circumstances are contested, with material online claiming it was staged and no primary transcript resolving it. What the phrase refers to is promethazine-codeine cough syrup, known in rap slang as lean, which the company acknowledges rather than promotes; its website carries a standing banner reading “! PLEASE DO NOT SIP DRANK AND SHOOT FIREARMS !”. The interesting part is what Desto Dubb did with the line, because a joke that trends for a week rarely converts into a trademark and three shops. The phrase was registered, printed large, and the wordmark itself was made the product. The searcher spelling thats an awful lot of cough syrup is the version most people type, but the registered mark uses “A” rather than “An”.

Act three: the shape of the business in 2026

The Melrose flagship at 7669 Melrose Avenue is the clearest measure of the distance travelled from the van. That street number has been Desto Dubb’s own social media display name, which tells you how much of the brand is bound up in one address. The company lists two further locations, at 312 West 5th Street in Los Angeles and 5410 Almeda Road in Houston, yet publishes no store locator and no opening hours. Beside them the company runs its own online store, where the catalogue sits at roughly 154 products and refreshes constantly. Prices hold steady at the upper end of independent streetwear: a tee is about $150 at the brand’s own store as of September 2026, with hoodies and sweatpants about $200 each, and those figures move with stock and season. Product copy says the garments are made in Los Angeles, and describes the company as a Black-owned business.

Festivals, collaborations and a tribute

The biggest expansion in visibility came in March 2024, when the brand partnered with Rolling Loud California from the 14th to the 17th at Hollywood Park in Inglewood. The activation was not a merch booth but a carnival, with arcade games, a swing ride and two onsite stores, a large bet for a label barely five years old. The month around it was crowded, since a 310babii collaboration was announced on March 11, a Got Sole pop-up followed on March 19, and a Dodger Collection arrived on March 29. Before that, on April 28, 2023, the label released “That’s A Awful Lot of Legendary” with BlueBucksClan at the Melrose store, a limited drop honouring the late Drakeo The Ruler. That one reads less like marketing than like a neighbourhood gesture, which is roughly how the brand has handled its music-world ties throughout. A Berner’s Cookies collaboration had launched earlier the same month, and Trapstar London published a joint piece through its own accounts in April 2024.

A note on what to call him

Search his name and two different legal identities turn up, a problem worth handling carefully rather than repeating. Only one of them enjoys documentary support: the United States trademark for the brand phrase is registered to Joshua Kashif Taylor, and every post on the company’s own blog carries a matching byline. Two separate records are in agreement, one filed with a federal agency and one published by the business itself. The other circulating name appears on an unsourced commercial content site with nothing behind it, and it should not be repeated as fact. In practice the question matters little to a reader, because the brand, its collaborators and its stores use one name. He is Desto Dubb, which is how his own company refers to him.

The career timeline

Built from dated coverage, the trademark record and the brand’s own posts, the timeline below leaves out anything that could not be pinned to a date. Read it in order, because the sequence is the argument: music, then phrase, then storefronts, then festival-scale activations. Notice how tightly clustered March 2024 is, with four separate events in nineteen days. Note too the twenty months between the first XXL coverage and the trademark’s first-use date, which is how long the phrase took to become an asset. Dates for store openings are absent because the company has never published them. Whatever here involves prices or catalogue size was accurate in September 2026 and will drift.

Reading the career straight

The circulating online version of this career is tidier than the evidence supports, and the tidying mostly runs in the brand’s favour. A staged or unstaged clip becomes a documented arrest; singles become albums; a handful of unsourced celebrity sightings become a client list. None of that is needed, because the checkable version is already unusual: a working rapper from Watts turned a piece of slang into a registered mark, sold the first pieces himself, and built alocs clothing into a business with a Melrose flagship inside six years. The parts that hold up are the trademark, the dated collaborations, the addresses and the prices. The parts that do not are the origin anecdote in its confident form and the roll-call of famous wearers. Anyone writing about awful lot of cough syrup is better served by the first list, which is long enough on its own.