Why a rapper voluntarily described iguanas escaping snakes in his living room remains unanswered
In early 2016, Snoop Dogg unveiled what might be one of the most unexpected contributions he has ever made to the world of science education: Snoop’s version of ‘Planet Earth II’—known colloquially, and now semi-officially, as “Plizzanet Earth.”
This was not, to be clear, a BBC-sanctioned endeavor. No contract with Sir David Attenborough was signed, and no naturalists were consulted. Instead, it was a recurring segment on Jimmy Kimmel Live! where the rapper, seated comfortably in a living room set that completely ignored the laws of zoological credibility, watched clips of ‘Planet Earth II’ and offered live narration using nothing but intuition, exclamations, and unfiltered commentary.
In the most viral installment, Snoop Dogg watched a chase scene between an iguana and a swarm of snakes. Rather than using traditional documentary language (“the iguana, in a show of agility…”), Snoop opted for a summary that included phrases like: “This is like a gang of snakes, you know what I’m saying?” and “He got away, cuh!” It was educational content if your curriculum had been designed by a very expressive uncle watching Animal Planet during a barbecue.
Soon after the segment aired, fans demanded more. A Change.org petition was launched almost immediately, with a straightforward request: have Snoop Dogg narrate the entirety of ‘Planet Earth.’ It received over 75,000 signatures—a number that suggests either immense public support for Snoop’s environmental insights, or collective agreement that iguanas being chased by snakes is only truly digestible when described by someone asking, mid-chase, “Why he just standing there? Run!”
Snoop Dogg never completed a full narration of the series. The BBC did not bite. Attenborough’s position was not compromised. Yet the legacy of Plizzanet Earth lives on through YouTube clips, countless reaction videos, and the quiet but undeniable truth that somewhere out there, a biology teacher probably showed it in class as an end-of-semester reward. It remains one of the only nature segments in television history where the narrator refers to a sea otter as “my dude.”
No degrees in herpetology were awarded during the making of this series. But viewers came away with a greater appreciation for the animal kingdom, and occasionally, a new use for familiar slang. Nature, it seemed, was ready for a new voice. Even if it occasionally mistook a mongoose for a snake’s cousin.