Lyrics Gangbangin' 101 - Album Version (Edited) - Snoop Dogg feat. The Game

West Coast, it's time to stand up
We gon' unite 'round this motherf one time
I'm callin' every real Crip
And every real B dog to the table right now
Yeah, we gon' push a real line right now
See if y'all with this real gangsta guerrilla
Have you ever seen a hundred thousand Rip riders from the side?
Blue Chucks, blue rags, gray clouds, blue skies
On the move, can't lose, Hill Street Blues
Gotta pay they dues on the crews
Or with the, spray these suckas, then I cruise
My granny saw it on the news
She shook up, look up and then she put me on the move
I tried to get away but I couldn't get far
'Cause the homies had the loop-loop that night at King Park
And I got into a squab, got caught and went to jail
Straight to the County with no motherf bail
Forty eight hundred with this Crippin', oh well
My big homie, Boy Blue snatched me by my coattail
He said, Trip Dogg, you better get right, Crip right?
Eyes open 'cause get stuck on seez-ight
It ain't no motherf problem, pop-pop, tick-tock
Never flip-flop, 20 Crippin' 'til I drop
Crip, Crip, Crip, Crip
So what, so what, so what, so what?
Crip, Crip, Crip, Crip
So what, so what, so what, so what?
Crip
Is I in the motherf S-5?
With the red bandanna, double knotted 'round the rear view
See clear through, they know that it's Game
Cherry red Lowenhart's let 'em know that I bang
So bang like Snoop in 'Deep Cover'
I got the seat reclined, under the white-T, smothered
Dippin' down Green Leaf, I ain't got no enemies
Been shot five times, now I bleed Hennessey
And bang for my locked up, they can't stop us
It ain't a gangsta party 'til we go and dig Pac up
I'm Dr. Martin Luther King with two on
Huey P. Newton with Air Force Ones on
I but I'm the opposite of Tookie Williams
Red Lambo', red bandanna, print ceilin'
Me and Snoop got the West Coast locked
Red and blue rag tied in a knot
With all my motherf homies yellin' out
So what, so what, so what, so what?
Crip, Crip, Crip, Crip
So what, so what, so what, so what?
Crip, Crip, Crip, Crip
I ran outta gas in Long Beach, I'm stuck
Ain't no Bloods and all I see is blue Chucks
Hopped out the '6-trey, nowhere to go
Til' Snoop pulled up in that Pittsburgh Steeler '6-4
We 'Just Dippin', one Bloodin', one Crippin'
I'm on that Bulls, throwback Scott Pippen
Moral is, my bandana hangin' from the left side
'So if you ain't a Crip or a Blood, just throw up Westside'
What up, Blood? Yeah cuz, we just tippin'
Me and Game doin' thangs, switchin' lanes, Hurricanes on my feet
Stop and C-Walk to the beat
Game, take the wheel and turn on 21st Street
Eastside, LBC, in my hand
It's the turf by the surf but we don't play in the sand
We just slip and slide out, we Rip and ride out
Let it C known, welcome to the Thunderdome
Crip, Crip, Crip, Crip
So what, so what, so what, so what?
Crip, Crip, Crip, Crip
So what, so what, so what, so what?
So what, so what, so what, so what?
Crip, Crip, Crip