The Ultimate Betrayal: How Rap’s Biggest Stars Traded Gang Colors for Survival, Riches, and Deadly Retribution

In the electrifying, cutthroat world of hip-hop, the line between art and reality is often blurred, sometimes fatally so. The most compelling stories in music are those forged in the trenches, where every tattoo, every lyric, and every piece of color-coded attire carries a weight that can crush a career or, worse, end a life. This weight is never heavier than when a rapper, already a target of street politics, decides to make the ultimate move: the switch.

Changing gang allegiances, or “flipping,” is the cardinal sin in the street code—a decision that can turn yesterday’s ally into today’s most lethal enemy. Yet, for some of the biggest names in rap, from generational legends to modern drill icons, the switch became inevitable. It wasn’t always for a better look or a catchy brand; often, it was a desperate gamble for survival, a shrewd play for millions, or a tragic, self-fulfilling prophecy of demise.

We delve into the true stories behind the color-flippers, the traitors, and the strategic survivors who redefined the high-stakes game of rap affiliation.

The Deadly Cost: Betrayal, Revenge, and Sealed Fates

For a chilling number of artists, a change of allegiance wasn’t a path to riches but a fast-track to conflict and catastrophe. The streets have a long memory, and nowhere is that lesson more painfully etched than in the story of King Von.

Von emerged from the crucible of Chicago’s O-Block, a faction of the Black Disciples (BDS). But his story is complicated by an early, brief affiliation with a rival set, STL/EBT. When Von made the conscious, aggressive decision to fully claim O-Block, he cemented a loyalty that solidified his reputation both on the mic and in the streets. The switch turned him into a monster on the mic, detailing his street credentials and involvement in multiple homicide cases with unfiltered candor. While he was eventually acquitted, his rise and his switch became intrinsically linked to his fate. On a cold night in Atlanta in 2020, Von was gunned down following a brawl, his legacy complicated but undeniably sealed by the very street code that built him. The streets loved him and took him back too soon.

Von’s death created a shockwave, proving that in this world, walking away is sometimes more dangerous than staying put. No one learned this faster than Quando Rondo. Instantly labeled the villain after the fatal incident, Rondo, a Savannah native tied to the Rollin’ 60s Crips, saw the streets turn on him. Concerts were cancelled, his crew moved military-style, and his close friend Lul Pab was killed in a targeted hit reportedly meant for him. The pressure broke him. He publically renounced the set, stating, “nobody got his back no more.” This act of survival, however, led to his being disowned by the Crips. Quando Rondo’s haunting narrative is proof that leaving a gang doesn’t guarantee escape; it sometimes only trades a visible enemy for an invisible, all-encompassing threat.

Another Chicago story of internal warfare comes from 051 Melly Air. Originally a respected member of the Black Disciples (BD), Melly flipped after the death of his friend 051 Ziko in 2017. His move to 051 Young Money, a renegade set that mixed multiple affiliations, and his subsequent embracing of the “BDK” (BD Killer) label was an unprecedented act of betrayal. This single switch turned Chicago drill “nuclear,” creating a firestorm of diss tracks and violence with rappers from O-Block and 600 sets. Melly became a figure of infamy, known for his raw lyrics about fallen rivals. Like Von, his reputation for ruthlessness proved fatal when he was ambushed and shot multiple times at a Chicago party in 2019.

In the Bronx, betrayal was more personal for EBK Nas. Raised in Courtland, he repped Courtland OGs until an ally allegedly set him up and robbed him for a pound of weed in 2022. Humiliated and exposed, Nas sought refuge with DOA (Dead On Arrival). This switch wasn’t about clout; it was purely about survival and vengeance. The choice, however, reignited beef across the Bronx, especially between OYogs and DOA crews, and ultimately led to a wave of criminal charges that have him locked up as of 2025.

These stories underscore a brutal truth: in the streets, changing colors is often less a strategy and more a desperate roll of the dice with deadly consequences. The high-profile double murder trial of YNW Melly, who was tied to Bloods and whose YNW movement was an alleged brotherhood, serves as a dark capstone, with prosecutors claiming the motive for his alleged betrayal of his friends was tied to internal gang conflict. Sometimes the deadliest switch isn’t to another set, it’s turning on your own.

The Hollywood Hustle: Trading Street Cred for Celebrity Clout

Not all switches are born of violence. For some, the change of allegiance is a calculated, often clumsy, attempt to reinvent a brand, gain respect, or simply survive the ruthless politics of celebrity.

Perhaps the most infamous case of image-flipping belongs to Lil Wayne. Born in the Holly Grove neighborhood, Wayne was originally known for his smarts, not his violence. That changed around 2005 when his image suddenly “flipped,” and he began rocking red bandanas and shouting “Soo,” connecting with sets tied to Mac 10’s Queen Street Bloods. While some dismissed it as “Hollywood blood” or branding, insiders claimed his affiliation became official during his 2010 Riker’s Island stint for a gun charge, when he was “surrounded by OGs from New York sets.” He used his new allegiance to fuel his career, which didn’t just survive the noise, but exploded with the massive success of The Carter 3.

Then there’s the poster child for the celebrity-street clash, Soulja Boy. Starting as the face of “ringtone rap,” Soulja Boy made a strange pivot around 2012, suddenly repping the notorious Fruittown Piru Bloods. He had a fleeting, shallow tie to the Grove Street Crips, but the Blood image came when he moved to LA, seeking credibility. His subsequent public beef with fellow Piru affiliate Chris Brown exposed the hypocrisy of his claims. In a moment of candor, he admitted his gang claims were “for respect, not because he put in work.” His switch, while yielding initial clout, ultimately cost him credibility in the eyes of the block.

Another rapper whose street claims were questioned was YBN Nahmir. After reportedly confessing on an Instagram live that he switched from the Gangster Disciples to the Crips, the streets saw right through the reinvention attempt. For an Alabama-born rapper who started his career behind a video game controller, his attempt to talk “like a West Coast OG” lacked the necessary street credibility, a fact reflected in the low sales of his debut album.

But no one exploited and then betrayed the gang dynamic quite like 6ix9ine. The Brooklyn deli worker linked up with the Nine Trey Gangster Bloods in 2017 in a cold, hard business deal: they offered credibility, protection, and power; he offered money, fame, and exposure. When a federal RICO indictment hit in 2018, the deal shattered. 6ix9ine “flipped faster than anyone in hip hop history,” testifying against his own gang and cementing his status as hip-hop’s “ultimate snitch.” His survival came at the cost of being exiled from the hood, transforming him into a “rich, untouchable but exiled” internet legend—proof that in the modern era, even a rat can go viral.

Finally, Blueface, who genuinely associated with the School Yard Crips, found his loyalty tested by fame and association with Blood affiliates like Whack 100. While he maintained he was still “from Schoolyard,” his growing presence in celebrity drama and OnlyFans shows made it clear he had traded his set life for celebrity life—a different kind of switch that led Crips OGs to “side eye” him for stepping off the block.

The Strategic Power Play: From Set Life to Corporate Empire

The most successful gang switches are those that transcend the drama entirely, turning a perilous street maneuver into a calculated power move that unlocks generational wealth and influence.

Snoop Dogg is the blueprint for this transcendence. Known globally as a Long Beach Crip, Snoop’s career hit a turning point when he began promoting “unity” between Crips and Bloods in the 2010s. While some OGs called him out for playing both sides, Snoop never disowned his roots; he simply “evolved past the set life.” After his 1996 murder trial acquittal, he transformed into a global peace ambassador, symbolizing how far a gangbanger can go without sacrificing his origins. Snoop transcended the streets without disrespecting them, stopping only to “prove it.”

Similarly, Moneybag Yo’s switch was a masterclass in strategy. Known in South Memphis as a face in the Young Mob, he effectively “crossed the line” when he signed with Yo Gotti’s CMG (Collective Music Group), which represented the rival North Memphis turf. To the streets, it was betrayal. To Moneybag Yo, it was business. The move granted him the money, fame, and co-sign that led to major hits like “Wockesha” and “Time Today.” While old allies accused him of selling out, Moneybag Yo never entertained the beef publicly, instead doubling down on success and building his own empire, Bread Gang. He proved that sometimes, the best revenge—and the ultimate power move—is getting rich.

In New York, Fivio Foreign executed a strategic switch from early Blixky Gang ties (linked to Crip sets) to identifying with the Woo movement (mostly Bloods/G-Stone Crips). His move was about finding unity under the burgeoning Brooklyn banner and joining forces with the rising star, Pop Smoke. The switch was a successful strategy, earning him a Columbia Records deal and positioning him as the face of New York drill.

The enigmatic transition of Young Thug also fits this strategic mold. Early in his career, he was known to affiliate with the Blood subset Sex Money Murder. However, around 2016, he started distancing YSL (Young Slime Life) from the overt Blood reputation. While the 2022 RICO indictment claimed YSL was a criminal gang tied to both Bloods and Crips through alliances, rumors flew that Thug had switched and abandoned the set when “things got hot” to save himself legally. Though locked up since May 2022, his story reflects a move from gang leadership toward isolation, suggesting a final, desperate strategy to save his legacy.

Trading the Streets for Sanity: Switching Lives

The most admirable switches are those that trade the life of crime for creative expression, a journey exemplified by the legendary founders of Cypress Hill.

B-Real came up in the brutal Southgate, Los Angeles, as a member of the Neighborhood Family Bloods. His street life nearly claimed him in 1988 when he was shot with a hollow-point bullet. That near-death experience provided the clarity he needed. He walked away from the streets, trading gang meetings for studio sessions, and co-founded Cypress Hill. B-Real’s switch wasn’t from one gang to another; it was “from the streets to sanity.” Today, he is an icon who proved “the smartest switch is walking away.”

His close friend, Sen Dog, shared a similar trajectory. Also a member of the Neighborhood Family Bloods, Sen Dog saw music as his “escape route.” Despite being accused by some Bloods of abandoning the set for fame, Sen Dog made his message crystal clear: he wasn’t switching sides, he was switching lives.

Whether born of necessity, calculated strategy, or catastrophic betrayal, the phenomenon of the rapper switch reveals the high-octane symbiosis between the rap industry and the street code. Every star is trapped between two masters: the code of loyalty that forged them and the code of profit that calls them to a bigger stage. For some, the switch is a ticket to a second life; for others, it’s merely a new way to expedite their end. In the end, the ultimate lesson remains: the streets will always collect their payment, whether it’s in loyalty, credibility, or life itself.