This is a song about "The crips"

Girl the way you're movin', got me in a trance

‘cuz they choose colors of bloods and crips in gangs,

Boogyin' with jesus and a bunch of nazi hoes

In the field of the damned, the only sentries are the crows.

She likes the way it hits her lips

Hes got on some crips kicks

In the heat of the summer,

And while i’m in your mother

But i'm from jers' and we don't play that shitfrom the clare down to north bricks, all my niggas flipping chips

That's not my hustle if i did i probably, would've made empty them clips from the crips

With women with issues

I'm the nigga with the juice

The realist in the game

They think they bring that pain

The streetz is aint the safe

This is no trial, this a closed case