You wear a particular garment,you just got to accept the fact
that you are gonna beassumed to be part
of a particular organization.
That's just what it is.
I love the color blue.I love wearing blue.
But the Crips haveinformed me...
that maybe I shouldn'twear blue all the time.
'Cause the gangsdon't mess around.
They still don't want youwearing they colors.
You can't wear the blue,which make me mad.
Damn, brother,I'm 38 years old.
At what point can I wear blueagain, sir?
You know, I obeyedall the gang rules in my 20s.
I didn't wear your colors,but I'm grown.
At this point, if I want toput on a blue shirt,
I should be able to put ona blue shirt
if I want a blue shirt.
But they don't do that.The Crips get in your face.
Yeah, mother--What hood you claiming, boy?
What hood you--
Sir, I'm claimingadulthood, okay?
That's my hood.
And I had a blazer on.That's what made it so bad.
I had a blazer onon top of my blue shirt.
What make you think I'm--
What gang you knowput a blazer on
before they start murdering?
Who you know?
Even if I am a Crip,obviously, I'm a supervisor.
You're out of line.
I will write your ass up.