Regulate – The Heroic Tale of Warren G and Nate Dogg

It was a clear black night/A clear white moon/Warren G was on the streets/Tryin’ to consume…

So begins Regulate, the epic poem by gangster bards Warren G and Nate Dogg. Like Homer and Virgil before them, these Long Beach City (L.B.C.) regulators penned a funked-out odyssey in the summer of 1994 that signified the dawn of a new age, the G-Funk Era.

But while Cicero practiced his oration by gargling stones at the beach – Warren G and Nate Dogg strengthened their storytelling chops by pulling on blunts, squeezing triggers and spitting game at hoes. This is their story…

The code of the regulators is outlined by a quote from the 1988 film Young Guns: Regulators are a vigilante gang of law enforcers that will not allow any geek off the street to join ranks - gotta be handy with the steel if you know what I mean, earn your keep.

Our regulator heroes, Warren G and Nate Dogg, begin their tale during a typical L.B.C. mission – peeping skirts for the eve. Warren G, however, is sidetracked by brothas shooting dice and suddenly a conflict arises. The busters pull out their gats and proceed to jack up Warren G – robbing him of his rings, Rolex, and who knows what’s next?

Meanwhile, Nate Dogg causes a car full of hookers to look so hard that they hit the curb. Stranded on the sidewalk and ripe for pimping, these hoes will have to wait for G-assistance because Nate Dogg suddenly notices his fellow regulator getting jacked by suckers all in his mix.

Surrounded by busters, Warren G envisions growing wings and flying away to contemplate. To his relief, he glances to the cut and sees his homey Nate rolling up with sixteen bullets in his clip and one in the hole. Nate Dogg’s strap explodes on the group of busters until their bodies turn cold. After proper regulation is complete, the pair gather themselves and switch their minds back to freak mode.

The regulators decide to get some funk from the horny tricks who crashed their car. Nate Dogg sizes up the dames, one of whom is sexy as hell, and he cordially offers them a ride to the East Side Motel. With the busters out of the way and the skirts in toe – another successful night of regulating comes to a close.

Chords, strings, melody, and g-funk work together in perfect harmony. Our heroes live in a world where rhythm is life and life is rhythm. You don’t want to step to the regulators from area code 213. Leaders of the G-Funk Era, they are getting high, like, everyday.

And if your ass is a buster/213 will regulate.