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Crank Dat Roosevelt
Views: 318k
Posted: July 28, 2006
Genre: Music, Dance
Creator: Soulja Boy Tellem, Arab
There is a hidden part of YouTube that can only be accessed by searching for old songs and old song lyrics. Hundreds of videos are buried deep beneath Google’s search algorithms which make discovery and research on the platform almost impossible, unless the searcher uses precise terms.
One video that made an impact on me as a young man remains as one of the defining videos of a lost era. This was a time when cameraphones were new, ringtone rap was emerging, and the t-shirts were oversized. This video is titled “Crank Dat Roosevelt.”
Searching for “Crank Dat Roosevelt” in 2025 retrieves a top five results with a median age of 18 years. Soulja Boy’s dance rendition appears 5th in those results, below a video titled “Crank Dat Forest Gump,” which was filmed in an attic and has 2.7M views.
The reason that this video has been largely forgotten is that it was created almost a full year before Soulja Boy released his breakthrough single Crank That (Soulja Boy). This older dance video was a waypoint in a trend that emerged in Southern Rap in 2006 in which songs invited listeners to “crank dat”–to dance.
In Soulja’s famous single, he paid homage to the earlier crank dats. In verse three, he implores, “Watch me crank that Roosevelt then super soak that, oh (Yuu).”
In his July 28, 2006 video, denizens of the earlier internet could indeed have watched Soulja, real name DeAndre Cortez Way, crank dat Roosevelt. It’s evident that Way, and his producer, Arab, were cranking that for quite some time before they reached mainstream success.
The history of “Crank Dat” variants has been poorly preserved, and although one article from 2016 curated more of them than I remember listening to, it didn’t provide much by way of intertwined history.
Soulja Boy’s fourteen second “short,” filmed on an early camera phone, is of such terrible quality that it’s difficult to discern which dancer is Soulja and which is Arab. The video was filmed in the driveway of Soulja’s father’s house, which has been stated to be 226 Van Voris St in Batesville. A Google Street View search makes the perspective difficult to match exactly, but the houses in the background look identical to the houses across the street from the Way family driveway where the video was filmed.
The video begins with the two performers posturing as a song crackles in the background. They begin by twisting their shoulders, revealing the billowing, oversized collared shirts that they have on, and white baseball caps that are broke way off. Their pants are baggy.
The first thrust comes around one second into the video, with the knees launching forward and the rest of the body seemingly holding in place. The roomy clothing adds to the drama of this move.
After a few more thrusts and shoulder swings, both Soulja and Arab stop in place and allow suspense to build. The dancer on the left, who is likely Arab, takes this time to fasten his pants. After several seconds, in which Arab’s body language suggests he is finished dancing, the fellow on the right, likely Soulja Boy, begins cranking it aggressively, exhibiting a clean performance of the “Roosevelt” routine. He draws a “whatthefuck–” from the cameraman as Arab thrusts once more.
Then, the climax, as Soulja leaps back several feet to continue the dance. This is a moment of significance, and I have replayed it hundreds of times. As Soulja lunges forward and then strides out of the frame, the cameraman, still processing the leap, is overwhelmed and begins emitting shrieks of laughter. His comments in the final second before the video cuts out being indecipherable. Thus is the power of the performing arts.
On this day long ago in Batesville, Mississippi, Soulja Boy cranked dat at a level not previously seen. Although he was already making music at this point, the few seconds of the video in which his friends could not process what was occurring serve as a strong indicator of his potential to achieve fame.
Soulja’s “leap and lunge” move while cranking that Roosevelt is an example of the extra-dimensional shortcut trope. This was the moment in which DeAndre Cortez Way “jumped” into a new world, one in which he would define a new genre of music. He didn’t invent cranking that, but executed a move so brilliantly that rappers would still allude to it in the year 3030, as in the Deltron 3030 rhyme: “Leave Taurus porous, my galaxy’s gorgeous, quantum jump, I’m right at your doorstep.” Way’s swaggering gyration toward his father’s doorstep is an unforgettable moment in early YouTube history.
However, it gets much deeper than that. Allegedly, Soulja Boy’s Crank That was a low-effort copy of Crank Dat Roosevelt. Since 2019, I’ve been sitting on a reddit post written by the older brother of the guy who created Crank Dat Roosevelt. There was only one comment, and a few upvotes. Because of the historical significance of the allegation, and my feeling that it must be preserved, I will copy the story in full.
F*ck you Soulja Boy, and Thank You for Being a Thief
Friday, May 10, 2019 by BaniVasion [banned]
TLDR:Soulja Boy being a lowlife thief, made my little brother Rich.
I used to be obsessed with rap and rapping as a teenager, and wrote and recorded rhymes all the times thinking I would make it big one day (I didnt). My little brother, nicknamed Meezy, watched me all those years and also fell in love with hip-hop. When I went off to college, he started his own rap group called PipeLine Productions (PLP). They had like 5 or 6 member,s and even had a “contract” they all signed and posted on my brother’s wall. (the wall in his room, not facebook)
They actually made a few songs that did really well within their school, and started doing shows at local skating rinks and stuff.
Well, at the time a local producer who (at the time) had nationwide fame took a liking to them. His name is Nitti, you may remember hearing “issa Nitti beat” on rapper Young Joc’s ‘meet me in the trap” and lots of songs from the early-mid 2000’s.
So Nitti produces a song, my brother records the first verse and samples his own voice to make the hook. The song is called “Crank Dat Roosevelt” (based off roosevelt Hwy in Atl.) There are like 4-5 guys on the song after my brother, and at the very end of the song (4:25) Soulja Boy is on the track (with literally the shortest verse you ever heard- maybe 5-6 bars?)
Anyway, no matter how stupid or vulgar- the hook for this song was “Skeet it on that hoe, and watch me crank dat roosevelt”
Well, Soulja Boy went behind their backs and rerecorded this song to a different beat. He changed it just enough and the song the nation heard was “Superman that hoe, and watch me crank dat soulja boy” Fucking thief.
I remember i had come home from college for a break, so it had to be like 06 or 07′ when I walked into the room and Meezy was on the phone arguiung with Soulja. He had stolen the song, it had become a hit, and he was minutes away from premiering the video on BET’s 106 & Park. My brother wa spissed, but at this point was just hoping for some scraps, I’ll never forget him asking, “Man, can’t you at least shout us out when you go on??” Soulja agreed, but he never did. Not knowing anything about lawsuits, or copyrights my brother never pursued it.
We both went on to watch his fame and money grow along with appreances on reality shows (although he never had a bigger song than the one he stole). My brother got real discouraged about rap, and went into club promotion.
He promoted every club in Atl, until he got Mansion Elan (major club in Atl) and the dollars started rolling in. While doing promotions for Mansion Elan, he started working with a young artist who was trying to book shows for his new music.
That young Artist was 21 Savage. My brother now manages him as well as several other artists (No Plug & Young Nudy would be the most recognizable to rap fans) , and owns several clubs along with a promotion company, and the CEO of Slaughter Gang Records, which is under Atlantic.
You wanna see what my baller ass little brother is up to now? IG: Megameezy
We are all living good now, and laughing at Soulja Boy who couldn’t buy a hit, or relevancy now.
If that song had never got stolen, my brother may have never found the path he is on. Still to this day, whenever we see that phony on TV we call him “Hoeja Boy”
