The Ganton “Blues” projects were built of concrete and desperation in the 1960s, and from those walls came the 516 Hoover Groovers. At first, they weren’t a gang in the way the city would later fear them. They were just kids—Black and Puerto Rican—forced to protect themselves against roving white criminal gangs that saw them as targets. Survival made them sharper, unity made them stronger, and by the end of that decade the streets knew their name: the 516 Hoover Groovers Criminals Gang—HGC.
By the early 1970s, the Groovers rode alongside the rising Crip identity, painting themselves blue and running as allies. But alliances in Los Santos were fragile. Feuds with nearby Crip sets escalated, bodies fell, and the brotherhood fractured. The Groovers cut their ties, denouncing the Crip name and standing alone under their own banner.
Standing alone came with its price. The Groovers clashed with Blood gangs who saw them as rivals, Mexican sets who fought them for turf, and even the very Crips they once marched beside. Their hood became a battlefield, and the walls told the story. Tags screamed ABK—Anybody Killa. Scrawled beside it: CK for Crip Killer, BK for Blood Killer. And over it all, the mark that explained everything about who they were: EBK—Everybody Killa.
Few dared to ally with them. The Groovers weren’t about peace treaties or half-measures—they ruled the Blues with a clenched fist and a sharpened blade. Outsiders whispered that nearly sixty percent of Los Santos had beef with them, but inside Ganton, the Groovers wore that reputation like armor.
In the projects, every corner carried their presence, every alley echoed their defiance. They weren’t just defending a neighborhood anymore. The 516 Hoover Groovers had become something else: a force, feared and unrelenting, born from struggle but hardened by war.
