What am I to do. Gangbangers, busters, and killers We were a ruthless gang They are a living remnant of my past Back in the day, when I was a thriller. We were the Crips, the toughest gang No need to be discrete Pistols sounded every week I would fight without worry I'd spit in the name of the street Domain was most important The human ego is morbid If you saw a blood member Or a non-crip C-Walkin' He was as good as dead But I have a huge dilemma, Towards Crips, people have anger I have something more important Someone I care about I can't put my baby in danger. I must abandon my old friends They mean nothing but trouble The streets are polluted Enemies seem tougher Gangbangin' is forever a struggle.