I truly met Pac once. He used to hang in my neighborhood from time to time - his wife (the marriage that got annulled) lived in the building down the block from me, and he would also come through to check Lil' Ra Ra (rockhead Harlem kid who was on the last track of Me Against The World). I was young, and he was hanging with cats from my building who were pretty much block legends, so I played it super low key. They were drinking and smoking while leaning against a bodega wall on 126th and Lexington, across from where Sal's candy and video game spot used to be. One dude (I think it was this nikka named Paris) started freestyling and was trying to get Pac to spit. Pac just kept smiling and laughing and saying he would rather just hear Paris spit. He told Paris he was nice, and called him "that verbal nikka" when he was saying his goodbyes. I'll never forget that night. His presence in my neighborhood was the reason that when the East-West shyt was heating up and NYC hated Pac, Harlem always repped for him, you'd hear his music all the time around my way. I was definitely struck by his energy/aura/soul/presence whatever you want to call it. Dude had the glow. RIP.
Im sure
