It was a good thing we didn't go because Suge's friend and bodyguard, Big Jake, was shot and killed that night. I didn't need to be around that. I wasn't into all that East Coast/West Coast shyt. That was not my beef. Some people said Big Wolf did it, but when I spoke with him, he never admitted to me that he did it.
That was the same month Suge bailed Tupac out of jail. Tupac immediately jumped right back into his anti-East Coast rants: He began pointing fingers at everybody again.
He accused Haitian Jack of being a snitch. He accused Jimmy of setting him up at the Quad, and he accused Puffy of knowing about it in advance.
Jimmy took Pac's accusations hard because he had just gotten his foot in the door of the music industry with the launch of his management company. If he got branded as a thug who set up his enemies in violent ambushes, no one would do business with him.
On top of that, Jimmy told me that Puffy started sweating him to do something about Pac. The rapper was out of control, making altogether too much noise. His behavior was raising concerns among the higher-ups in the music industry. Puffy didn't like it and he wanted Tupac silenced.
Trouble was not good for business, but it seemed to be everywhere. Snoop Dogg had put together a side group called Tha Dogg Pound--two young dudes named Daz Dillinger and Kurupt. Around December, Tha Dogg Pound flew with Snoop into the city to film a video for a song called, "New York, New York." They shot the first part of the video right smack in the middle of Manhattan. In the video, they were portrayed as Godzilla-like giants stomping through the city, crushing buildings and overturning vehicles. None of New York's playas was tripping on that. It was cool with us.
Later on that night, Biggie got on the radio and said something like, "New York nikkas must be getting soft, cause we got dudes from the West Coast disrespecting us right here in our own city."
The next day I was out riding around Brooklyn, listening to the homegirl Angie Martinez, on Hot 97. Angie is this fine Puerto Rican cutie that works at the local radio station. She was, and still is a New York radio princess.
Everybody loves her out here. While I'm driving around, Jimmy hits me on the cell. "Aye Dex, where you at?"
"In Flatbush, between Linden and Utica," I said.
"You got your gun on you?"
"Yeah, what's up?"
"Meet me down in Red Hook...ASAP. Snoop and That Dogg Pound down there shooting a video."
"A'ight, I'm on my way.”
I clicked off the phone, bent a U-turn and tore across town. The only thing I could think that Jimmy might have up his sleeve was him wanting to rob these dudes for their jewels and cash, the same way we got Pac.
When I got about halfway there, my thoughts were abruptly interrupted as I heard Angie Martinez announce over the radio that Tha Dogg Pound video set had just been shot up. Upon hearing this, I assumed there was no longer any need for me to go to Red Hook. Coincidentally, Jimmy never called me back that day to see what was taking me so long, or to ask why I never showed up.
My thing was, why shoot up a video set? What the hell is that going to prove? I would later find out that the whole thing started out because Biggie was angry about Pac. He thought Pac was with Snoop and Tha Dogg Pound, trying to rub Bad Boys' nose in this escalating war of words. That's why he went on the radio in the first place talking that shyt about them disrespecting the city. Snoop was in the trailer with Tha Dogg Pound when the bullets started flying. They escaped injury, but the trailer was shot full of holes. Whoever shot up the trailer that day didn't do it for the money. They wanted to send a message.
My motto has always been: "If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense!"
None of the dudes I kicked it with in the streets had any problems with dudes from the West Coast. The entire rap beef was nothing but Jimmy Henchman, Puffy and Biggie, fighting with Tupac and Suge Knight, and the rival gangs that each side hired for protection.
A lot of innocent people got sucked into their madness. The media, doing what they do best, threw gas on the flames when they started reporting about it being an East Coast vs. West Coast beef. The bi-coastal beef left dozens of unsolved murders and shootings in its wake. None of my boys or anyone I knew raised a finger in contribution to this music war. During that period, I would see Nate Dogg (R.I.P.) and Tha Dogg Pound hanging out in New York clubs, chilling alone, without any security. I respected them for that. Nobody in New York bothered them. In our minds, they were some real dudes, children of the ghetto, same as us. Real recognize real.