Pegasus Jackson
Trump's Amerikkka
40 nikkas in masks.
Drakeo The Ruler Dead After Fatal Stabbing at Music Festival. RIP
- Thread starter Sad Bunny
- Start date
40 nikkas in masks.
Decent read. They said private investigator counted up 113 people going up against 7 when it was all said and done. Plus, contrary to the video, there was a prior altercation to the one shown.
The Assassination of Drakeo the Ruler
Exposition Park is located at the northern end of South Central, the point where the city starts to be carved up into block-by-block fiefdoms. Wander a few miles in any direction and you might encroach on turf claimed by Bloods, Crips, Treces, Varrio Nueva Estrada, 18th Street, Hoover Criminals, MS-13, or one of the deputy gangs in the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department, currently under investigation by the state of California.
On the cold Saturday evening of December 18, the 160-acre grounds are the site of a one-day music festival called Once Upon A Time in L.A., quite possibly the best (and likely the most expensive) concert bill ever booked within city limits. Tens of thousands gather in the shadows of the Memorial Coliseum, paying a minimum of $160 plus surcharges to see a lineup that blends the last 50 years of Southern California soundtracks: vintage lowrider soul (the Isley Brothers), ’90s G-Funk (Snoop Dogg), new millennium rap (YG), and that genre’s nascent next generation, much of which is creatively in debt to the West Coast’s most original stylist in a quarter-century, Drakeo the Ruler.
It had been a little over a year since the 28-year-old South Central rapper walked free from the Compton courthouse, swapping a black jail jumpsuit for designer clothes, dazzling jewelry, and blue-faced hundreds, having beaten first-degree murder charges that carried a possible life sentence. Drakeo and I first became close during this final, nearly three-year incarceration. At first, he kept calling in the hopes that I would tell the world about his wrongful persecution. But over hundreds of hours on the phone, the working relationship evolved into a deep friendship. Journalistic responsibilities became secondary to human ones. I’d never witnessed a miscarriage of justice so grave, so intimately.
Once Upon a Time in L.A. is slated to be Drakeo’s second official performance in L.A. since being released in November 2020. It’s the kind of dream he ritually imagined during those endless carceral midnights of the soul: a hometown show before adoring fans, a $50,000 payday, and the chance to prove that he is the best rapper in his city.
While waiting for Drakeo to go on, I watch Al Green sing about love and happiness. He clutches a red rose like a talisman, his teardrops-from-heaven falsetto fading in and out, weathered from stress and the slanders of time. It’s about 8:30 when Drakeo’s friend and producer Joog SZN tells me that it’s time to meet Drakeo and his younger brother, Ralfy the Plug, an innovative rapper in his own right.
There are two ways to get backstage. The first is an entrance within the festival itself, behind a flimsy chain-link fence manned by a lone security guard. The other is through a checkpoint just off Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd., where the organizers have created a production road and parking lot exclusively for the artists. Compared to the raucous festival grounds, the all-access grounds are sleepy. Most acts are 40-plus; one can assume they’re there for the check, not to socialize.
If I want to watch the show from the side of the G-Funk stage, where only Drakeo’s personal guests are allowed, we need to move as a unit. Drakeo has only been allotted two parking passes and 15 all-access wristbands, so the entourage is smaller than usual. Six of us, including Joog and his cousin, Ron-Ron the Producer, walk toward Drakeo’s midnight $400,000 Rolls-Royce Dawn, all of us laughing and joking. It’s time for him to perform.
Lanky lamp poles splash pools of sodium light onto our heads, but large stretches in this lunar plane of asphalt remain unlit. You can see what’s right in front of you, but beyond lies glinting metal and lurking shadows. In retrospect, the lapses of organizational judgement seem flagrant. But you don’t expect to witness a murder while Al Green croons “Tired of Being Alone.”
Drakeo is accompanied by his half-dozen friends and a lone security guard. His eyes, glowing through a designer balaclava, betray genuine excitement. A half-million in ice clinks around his neck. We exchange greetings and move toward the golf cart that is supposed to be waiting to escort us across the grounds.
Then things go abruptly sideways. An unseen person shouts: “fukk the Stinc Team, fukk Drakeo!” Without hesitating, Drakeo and Ralfy walk toward the challengers. Six guys wearing ski masks and crimson hoodies square up in a fighter’s stance. A brawl begins.
I figure it’s about to turn into a shootout. In the middle of his murder investigation, Drakeo once rapped, prodding detectives, “Judging by my case files, I’m obsessed with rifles”; the first song he recorded out of jail was “Fights Don’t Matter,” which had a hook about firing 33 shots instead of using fists. Even if his prior felonies barred him from legally possessing guns, the risks that came with being a flashy L.A. street rapper meant that he’d always rather be tried by 12 than carried by six. What I didn’t know is that he and his entourage—including his licensed and bonded security guard—had been meticulously searched and stripped of weapons before entering.
After ducking from the presumptive line of fire, I watch the mayhem from roughly 20 feet away. Flurries of punches are thrown. It seems to be a fair fight. Out in front, Drakeo unleashes jabs and uppercuts. Ralfy does the same, plus one of the Bruce Lee kicks he raps about. Several minutes pass and festival security are nowhere to be found. I’ve seen hundreds of police officers on the grounds tonight, but they’re suddenly invisible. But even without intervention, the squabble ends quickly. Drakeo and the Stinc Team turn and continue toward the stage. For a moment, everything is calm.
More
The Assassination of Drakeo the Ruler
113 vs 7 is wild
It's a great article, really good investigative journalism, detailed and graphic, but to me, speaks more to Weiss's very personal relationship with Drakeo (obvious from his previous LA Mag coverage) and less to a conspiracy or orchestrated murder plot, with 113 conspirators. (note that private investigator is probably inflating, because his report will likely be apart of the lawsuit his family files)
What would be the purpose of a decoy fight? To see if they had weapons? Seems like a way to make sense of what was probably just feuds catching up.
You can get to someone like Drakeo easy in the city. This would probably be the most extreme, complicated, risky to kill him, involving dozens of witnesses. Not to mention dramatic. I would think they knew they would see him, and just on sighted when they did, and everyone was deep. No one knew he would end up dead, like a conspiracy (though it could be charged) they just knew it would be bad.
They had a designated guy to carry the knife and do the job? Someone just took it too far. Someone will end up prosecuted for this.
*didn't know Earl Swavey was killed, hadn't listened to him in aa few years, but in 2017 I had a few tracks my boy from Athens put me on to.
What would be the purpose of a decoy fight? To see if they had weapons? Seems like a way to make sense of what was probably just feuds catching up.
You can get to someone like Drakeo easy in the city. This would probably be the most extreme, complicated, risky to kill him, involving dozens of witnesses. Not to mention dramatic. I would think they knew they would see him, and just on sighted when they did, and everyone was deep. No one knew he would end up dead, like a conspiracy (though it could be charged) they just knew it would be bad.
They had a designated guy to carry the knife and do the job? Someone just took it too far. Someone will end up prosecuted for this.
*didn't know Earl Swavey was killed, hadn't listened to him in aa few years, but in 2017 I had a few tracks my boy from Athens put me on to.
Last edited:
The end of the story was wild about the one dude standing on top of the ledge beating his chest and yelling out some chant, and everyone followed suit..on some 300 shyt
Dak Pickscott
Shout out to Dallas my bih is a star
Roll the window up, if it's smoke, we want all of it 
Roll the window up, if it's smoke, we want all of it
I ain't gonna lie. That was cold.
R.I.P to Drakeo. Sad chain of events.
Last edited:
Smokee Robinson
All Star
Pretty good article on Drakeo,
Hopefully Ralphy or Remble can hold the flag for the Stinc team
Hopefully Ralphy or Remble can hold the flag for the Stinc team
$cam-U-Well_Jack$on
Superstar
Every single time.
OGBobbyJohnson
Veteran
Damn
I read that as dude just hopping on a ledge beating his chest like a gorilla… not on no Aztec Warrior shyt lol
Freedman
Choppers For Karate Nggas
I been fw his lil homies Duffy and Blue Pesos. They were either part of the Stinc Team or affiliated with them. Their Flow is similar to Drakeo's and they use alot of the same lingo. They just dropped a new tape last week
Long Live the Ruler !
Last edited:
KingsOfKings
🍊 Let's Talk Numbers 🍊
Update
