Ilikuwa ni jioni tulivu ya Septemba 7, 1996, kila alikokuwa anapita, mashabiki walikuwa wakifunga njia na kumlazimisha asaini Autography zao. Kwa kuwa alikuwa Ghettho Boy, hilo halikumpa shida, akashow love kila alipotia maguu. Giza lilipoingia kama, makamuzi yakahamia kwenye makasino ya Las Vegas… kila alipopita alikuwa aakpoikelewa kama mfalme. All eyes on me… keep ya head up. Laiti kama angelijua usiku ule ndiyo wa mwisho kwake, asingepiga hattua kuyafuata mauti.
Akiwa na washkaji zake ambao kiukweli walikuwa ni mapari people, Snoopy Doggy ndani, Marion “Suge” Knight na wengione kibao, walikuwa wakila bata na kuhama viwanja kutoka jimbo moja kwenda jingine.
Wakatia maguu Las Vegas na kuweka kambi Boulevard huku wakifganya kufuru kila walipotimba club yoyote. Mitaa ilikuwa kimya wakati BMW 750 Sedan, kwenye usukani akiwa mzee mwenye we Marion “Suge” Knight na pembeni Pac na nyuma majita kibao likikatiza mitaani jirani na hoteli kubwa za MGM Grand na Caesars Palace. Mbele kidogokulitokea kama msongamano ambao haukueleweka umeanzia wapi.
Mwanaume aliyekuwa amevalia mavazi meusi alichomoza kutoka kwenye Cadillac nyeupe, mkononi akiwa na semiautomatic pistol, akamlenga Pac ambaye hakuwa na habari, akicheka na kufurahi na marafiki zake. Risasi … zikafyatuliwa na kuzama kwenye kifua cha pac… paaaah
Aliyelenga hakufanya makosa.
The Thug Life and Death (Las Vegas)
By Chuck Philips
(c) 2002, Los Angeles Times
LAS VEGAS — The city’s neon lights vibrated in the polished hood of
the black BMW as it cruised up Las Vegas Boulevard.
The man in the passenger seat was instantly recognizable. Fans
lined the streets, waving, snapping photos, begging Tupac Shakur for
his autograph. Cops were everywhere, smiling.
The BMW 750 sedan, with rap magnate Marion “Suge” Knight at the
wheel, was leading a procession of luxury vehicles past the MGM Grand
Hotel and Caesars Palace, on their way to a hot new nightclub. It was
after 11 on a Saturday night — Sept. 7, 1996. The caravan paused at a
crowded intersection a block from the Strip.
Shakur flirted with a carful of women — unaware that a white
Cadillac had quietly pulled up beside him. A hand emerged from the
Cadillac. In it was a semiautomatic pistol, aimed at Shakur.
Six years later, the killing of the world’s most famous rap star
remains officially unsolved. Las Vegas police have never made an
arrest. Speculation and wild theories continue to flourish in the
music media and among Shakur’s followers. One is that Knight, owner of
Shakur’s record label, arranged the killing so he could exploit the
rapper’s martyrdom commercially. Another persistent legend is that
Shakur faked his own death to escape the pressures of stardom.
A yearlong investigation by the Los Angeles Times reconstructed the
crime and the events leading up to it. Evidence gathered by the paper
indicates:
The shooting was carried out by a Compton, Calif., gang called the
Southside Crips to avenge the beating of one of its members by Shakur
a few hours earlier.
Orlando Anderson, the Crip whom Shakur had attacked, fired the
fatal shots. Las Vegas police discounted Anderson as a suspect and
interviewed him only once, and then briefly. He was later killed in an
unrelated gang shooting.
The murder weapon was supplied by New York rapper Notorious B.I.G.,
who agreed to pay the Crips $1 million for killing Shakur. Notorious
B.I.G. and Shakur had been feuding for more than a year, exchanging
insults on recordings and at award shows and concerts. B.I.G. was
gunned down six months later in Los Angeles. That killing also remains
unsolved.
Before they died, Notorious B.I.G. and Anderson denied any role in
Shakur’s death. This account of what they and others did that night is
based on police affidavits and court documents as well as interviews
with investigators, witnesses to the crime and members of the
Southside Crips who had never before discussed the killing outside the
gang.
Fearing retribution, they agreed to be interviewed only if their
names were not revealed.
The slaying silenced one of modern music’s most eloquent voices — a
ghetto poet whose tales of urban alienation captivated young people of
all races and backgrounds. The 25-year-old Shakur had helped elevate
rap from a crude street fad to a complex art form.
Tupac Amaru Shakur was born in 1971 into a family of black
revolutionaries and named after a martyred Incan warrior. Radical
politics shaped his upbringing and the rebellious tone of much of his
music.
His godfather, Black Panther leader Elmer “Geronimo” Pratt, spent
27 years in prison for a robbery-murder that he insisted he did not
commit. Pratt was later freed after a judge ruled that prosecutors
concealed evidence favorable to the defendant.
Shakur’s stepfather, Black Panther leader Mutulu Shakur, was on the
FBI’s Ten Most Wanted list until the early 1980s, when he was
imprisoned for robbery and murder. His mother, Afeni Shakur, also a
Black Panther, was charged with conspiring to blow up a block of New
York department stores — and acquitted a month before the rapper was
born.
Shakur grew up in tough neighborhoods and homeless shelters in New
York and Baltimore. He exhibited creative talent as a child and was
admitted to the Baltimore School for the Arts, where he studied
ballet, poetry, theater and literature.
In 1988, his mother sent him to live with a family friend in the
San Francisco Bay Area to escape gang violence in Baltimore. Living in
a tough neighborhood north of Oakland, he joined the rap group Digital
Underground and signed a solo record deal in 1991.
Shakur’s debut album, “2Pacalypse Now,” sparked a political
firestorm. The lyrics were filled with vivid imagery of violence by
and against police. A car thief who murdered a Texas state trooper
said the lyrics incited him to kill. Law enforcement groups and
politicians denounced Shakur. Then-Vice President Dan Quayle said the
rapper’s music “has no place in our society.”
Shakur’s recordings explored gang violence, drug dealing, police
brutality, teenage pregnancy, single motherhood and racism. As his
stature as a rapper grew, he pursued an acting career, drawing
admiring reviews for his performances in “Juice” and other films.
But he never put what he called the “thug life” behind him.
During a 1993 concert in Michigan, he attacked a local rapper with
a baseball bat and was sentenced to 10 days in jail. In Los Angeles,
he was convicted of assaulting a music video producer. In New York, a
19-year-old fan accused Shakur and three of his friends of sexually
assaulting her.
While on trial in that case, the rapper was ambushed in a Manhattan
recording studio, shot five times and robbed of his jewelry. Shakur
later said Notorious B.I.G. and his associates were behind the attack.
Shakur, convicted of sexual abuse, was serving a 4 1/2-year prison
term when he was visited by Suge Knight, founder of Death Row Records
in Los Angeles. Knight offered to finance an appeal of his conviction
if Shakur would sign a recording contract with Death Row.
Shakur accepted the offer and was released from prison in 1995 on a
$1.4 million appellate bond posted by Knight. Hours later, Shakur
entered a Los Angeles studio to record “All Eyez on Me.” The double
CD sold more than 5 million copies, transforming Shakur into a
superstar.
On Sept. 7, 1996, Shakur, still out on bond, traveled to Las Vegas
to attend a championship boxing match between Mike Tyson and Bruce
Seldon at the MGM Grand Hotel.
The sold-out arena was jammed with high rollers . The fight also
attracted an assortment of underworld figures: mobsters from Chicago,
drug dealers from New York, street gangs from Los Angeles.
Shakur arrived around 8:30 p.m. accompanied by armed bodyguards
from the Mob Piru Bloods, a Compton street gang whose members worked
for Knight’s Death Row Records. Shakur and Knight sat in the front
row, smoking cigars, signing autographs and waving to fans.
“Knock You Out,” a song Shakur had written in honor of Tyson,
blasted over the loudspeakers as the boxer entered the ring. Tyson
flattened his opponent so quickly that many patrons never made it to
their seats.
After congratulating Tyson, Shakur, Knight and a handful of
bodyguards in silk suits headed for the exit. In the MGM Grand lobby,
one of Shakur’s bodyguards noticed a member of the rival Southside
Crips lingering near a bank of elevators.
The hoodlum standing in the lobby was Orlando “Baby Lane”
Anderson, 21, a Crip who had recently helped his gang beat and rob one
of Shakur’s bodyguards at a mall in Lakewood, Calif. Anderson had a
string of arrests for robbery, assault and other offenses. Compton
police suspected him in at least one gang killing.
After the beating of Shakur’s bodyguard, Anderson had dared to rip
a rare Death Row medallion from the man’s neck — an affront to
Knight’s honor and a slight to the Bloods.
The Bloods had been fuming for weeks, waiting to exact their
revenge. Now, unexpectedly, there was Anderson, standing before them.
Shakur charged the Crip. “You from the South?” he asked.
Before Anderson could answer, Shakur punched him. His bodyguards
jumped in, pounding and kicking Anderson to the ground. Knight joined
in too — just before security guards broke up the 30-second melee,
which was captured by a security camera.
Shakur and his entourage stomped triumphantly across the casino
floor on their way out of the hotel. They walked half a block down the
Strip to the Luxor hotel, where Death Row Records had booked more than
a dozen rooms. After dropping off Shakur and the bodyguards, Knight
drove about 15 minutes to a mansion he owned in a gated community in
the city’s southeastern valley.
The plan was to regroup later at a benefit concert for a youth
boxing program featuring Shakur and other Death Row acts. The midnight
concert was to be held at Club 662, a nightspot just opened by Death
Row. The club’s name was an emblem of how gangs had infiltrated the
rap business. On a telephone keypad, 662 spells “mob.”
A bruised and shaken Anderson gathered himself off the floor in
front of dozens of startled onlookers. MGM security guards and Las
Vegas police tried to persuade him to file a complaint against his
assailants, but he declined.
Anderson headed out to the Strip and crossed over a pedestrian
bridge to the Excalibur Hotel, where he had checked in with his
girlfriend. News of the beating swept through the gang underground.
Before he reached his room, Anderson’s pager was beeping with calls ,
according to what he later told associates.
Anderson phoned his comrades and set up a meeting at the Treasure
Island hotel.
By the time Anderson’s taxi reached the Treasure Island, more than
a dozen gangsters were holed up in a Crips-reserved room. Marijuana
clouded the hallway. Alcohol was flowing as Anderson opened the door.
The gang was furious. The topic of discussion: Who gets to pull the
trigger?
According to people who were present, the Crips decided to shoot
Shakur after his performance at Club 662. The plan was to station two
vehicles of armed Crips outside the nightspot and lie in wait.
For the Crips, the beating of Anderson was an egregious affront
warranting swift and fatal retaliation. Still, the Crips thought, why
not make a little money while they were at it? They decided to ask
Shakur’s biggest enemy to pay for the hit.
The gang arranged a rendezvous with Notorious B.I.G. The Brooklyn
rapper, whose real name was Christopher Wallace, hated Shakur and had
been feuding with him for nearly two years.
Once tight friends, the two entertainers now ridiculed each other
at events, in interviews and on recordings. In one song called “Hit
’Em Up,” Shakur bragged about having sex with Wallace’s wife and
vowed to kill him. The threats between the rappers and their labels,
Death Row and Bad Boy Entertainment, escalated into a series of
assaults and shootings — one of which resulted in the killing of a
Death Row bodyguard in Atlanta in 1995.
Fearing for his safety, a friend of Wallace arranged for the Crips
to supply bodyguards for the rapper whenever he traveled west. Over
the years, the gang was paid to provide security for Wallace at
casinos in Las Vegas, clubs in Hollywood and award shows in Los
Angeles.
Wallace began flashing Crips gang signs and calling out to the
homies at concerts, sometimes even inviting gang members on stage.
Privately, he prodded the gang to kill Shakur — and promised to pay
handsomely for the hit.
On Sept. 7, 1996, the Crips decided to take him up on the offer.
They sent an emissary to a penthouse suite at the MGM, where
Wallace was booked under a false name. In Vegas to party, the rapper
didn’t attend the Tyson-Seldon fight but had quickly learned about
Shakur’s scuffle with Anderson. Wallace gathered a handful of thugs
and East Coast rap associates to hear what the Crips had to say.
According to people who were present, the Crips’ envoy explained
that the gang was prepared to kill Shakur but expected to collect $1
million for its efforts. Wallace agreed, with one condition, a witness
said. He pulled out a loaded .40-caliber Glock pistol and placed it on
the table.
He didn’t just want Shakur dead. He also wanted the satisfaction of
knowing the fatal bullet came from his gun.
Around 11 p.m., police stopped Knight for cranking the black BMW’s
stereo too loud and not properly displaying its license plates. Shakur
and Knight joked with the officers and talked them out of issuing a
ticket. Then the BMW turned right on Flamingo Road and headed east
toward the club.
A few blocks away moments earlier, Anderson and three other Crips
were taking an elevator down to the Treasure Island lobby. They walked
out into the valet parking area.
Hovering under the hotel’s skull-and-crossbones logo, the four
Crips waited silently as the valet brought out a 1996 white Cadillac
and opened the doors. They piled in and eased the sleek new sedan out
into traffic. A fifth Crip in an old yellow Cadillac met them at the
curb and followed close behind. He rode solo, with an AK-47 assault
rifle lying across the front seat.
After waiting at a stoplight between Caesars Palace and the Barbary
Coast hotel, the Cadillacs turned onto Flamingo and headed east toward
Club 662.
As they passed the Bally’s hotel on the right, the driver saw a
caravan of cars ahead on the left. The vehicles, packed with Mob Piru
Bloods and Death Row employees, were stopped at a red light across
from the Maxim Hotel. The crosswalk was filled with tourists.
Leading the convoy was Knight’s black BMW. Shakur was in the
passenger seat. They were alone in the car, unarmed.
The Crips couldn’t believe their luck. They decided to chuck their
plan and strike immediately.
The white Cadillac raced up on the convoy and pulled up beside the
BMW. Shakur didn’t notice. He was flirting with a carful of women in a
lane to his left.
“I saw four black men roll by in a white Cadillac,” said Atlanta
rapper E.D.I. Mean, who was in the vehicle directly behind Shakur’s.
“I saw a gun come from the back seat out through the driver’s front
window.”
Bullets flew, shattering the windows of the BMW. Shakur tried to
duck into the rear of the car for cover, but four rounds hit him,
shredding his chest. Blood was everywhere.
“We heard shots and looked to the right of us,” Knight said.
“Tupac was trying to get in the back seat, and I grabbed him and
pulled him down. The gunshots kept coming. One hit my head.”
In the chaos, neither Knight nor Mean could make out who had fired.
The driver of the yellow Cadillac just behind the assailants never got
a chance to fire his AK-47.
“It all happened so quick. It took three or four seconds at
most,” Mean said.
Then the Cadillac screeched around the corner. A bodyguard near the
back of the Death Row caravan fired at the fleeing sedan. In a ruse
designed to confuse Shakur’s entourage, the Crip in the yellow
Cadillac chased the white Cadillac around the corner, as if in hostile
pursuit.
Knight made a U-turn, his bullet-riddled BMW squealing around the
concrete median. The Death Row convoy followed him back to the Strip,
where he rammed his car onto a curb.
Las Vegas police were soon on the scene. After summoning an
ambulance for Shakur, they ordered everyone else in the convoy out of
their cars at gunpoint. The police forced Knight, who was bleeding
from a head wound, to lie face down on the pavement.
By the time the detectives figured out that Knight and his caravan
were victims, not suspects, the Crips had returned to their hotel
rooms and gathered their belongings.
Staggering their departures to avoid attracting attention, Anderson
and his fellow gang members hit the highway, each in a different car.
Two younger gang members drove the white Cadillac back across the
desert.
Interstate Highway 15 moves fast at night.
It was still dark when the Crips disappeared over the California
border.
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