Sean "Diddy" Combs Docuseries Produced By 50 Cent Officially Set At Netflix
- Thread starter Big Boss
- Start date
backbreaker65
All Star
Ja Rule, is not seeing the traction he wants as well as other detractors.
50 cent job as executive producer is to create content and promote said content.
Originally y'all said there is already documentaries on puff, we will not see anything we don't know. Fast forward, he's a snitch(how) and he's bringing a black man down.
The doc resonated and is successful and the story telling in the doc was riveting.
50 cent job as executive producer is to create content and promote said content.
Originally y'all said there is already documentaries on puff, we will not see anything we don't know. Fast forward, he's a snitch(how) and he's bringing a black man down.
The doc resonated and is successful and the story telling in the doc was riveting.
True Blue Moon
Superstar
Puff was always good for some insultingly fake positivity throughout the yearsI’m@ “Peace Tour” in Cali..dead:
True Blue Moon
Superstar
I saw it a little before the doc came out but maaan there was a time I thought I’d never see that Hate Me Now footage. Almost seemed fake to finally see it. Closed a loop from childhood.
True Blue Moon
Superstar
Not sure what the argument is about Puff having a bad guy image. The whole reason he switched from Puff Daddy to P Diddy and eventually Diddy was for a rebirth for his image after the Steve Stoute and J Lo/Shyne club shooting situations. He cleaned up nicely once he started making bigger money but dude has been doing too much at every era of his success, even getting arrested for trying to fight his son’s college football coach
Then he switched to "Brother Love"Not sure what the argument is about Puff having a bad guy image. The whole reason he switched from Puff Daddy to P Diddy and eventually Diddy was for a rebirth for his image after the Steve Stoute and J Lo/Shyne club shooting situations. He cleaned up nicely once he started making bigger money but dude has been doing too much at every era of his success, even getting arrested for trying to fight his son’s college football coach
Can't wait to see his next rebrand when he gets out of prison
Then he switched to "Brother Love"
Can't wait to see his next rebrand when he gets out of prison
He probably going gospel.
He's gonna be Kirk Franklin 2.0
Ja Rule, like many others on this site cannot believe how 50 came out on top with this one.
First it was 50, jealous and hating to "all he did was put his name to it anyway"
Now Ja and others are posting accusations as if there's footage of 50 putting hands and feet on bytches
Funny thing is, this doc humanized Puff in many ways.
Uchiha God
Veteran
Ja Rule, like many others on this site cannot believe how 50 came out on top with this one.
First it was 50, jealous and hating to "all he did was put his name to it anyway"
Now Ja and others are posting accusations as if there's footage of 50 putting hands and feet on bytches
Funny thing is, this doc humanized Puff in many ways.
Son went from: “you rat. you always telling on somebody. nikka snitching. tattletale. dry snitching
“to
“here’s a statement with allegations about you”
duckbutta
eienaar van mans
I walked away from it thinking Puff a bigger demon than I thought he wasJa Rule, like many others on this site cannot believe how 50 came out on top with this one.
First it was 50, jealous and hating to "all he did was put his name to it anyway"
Now Ja and others are posting accusations as if there's footage of 50 putting hands and feet on bytches
Funny thing is, this doc humanized Puff in many ways.
2 episodes In and this shīt is pretty good
Well yeah but it gave reasons whyI walked away from it thinking Puff a bigger demon than I thought he was
Uchiha God
Veteran
Yall brehs that are “real men”, “secure men” and “mature”, got it dawg
Whatever gene is needed to be able to look past her past and wife a girl like Cassie - skipped me - I just don’t have it
The level of degeneracy in the activities she was engaging in with Diddy is just…if I found out my girl did that - I’d probably just walk out the window like Tommen in Game of Thrones
aye man, beautiful woman, all the best. But:
“aye, what yall doing with my semen, man? Yall been taking cups of it every time”
“I like to see her play with, swallow it, douse herself in it. What’s the problem?”
Whatever gene is needed to be able to look past her past and wife a girl like Cassie - skipped me - I just don’t have it
The level of degeneracy in the activities she was engaging in with Diddy is just…if I found out my girl did that - I’d probably just walk out the window like Tommen in Game of Thrones
aye man, beautiful woman, all the best. But:
“aye, what yall doing with my semen, man? Yall been taking cups of it every time”
“I like to see her play with, swallow it, douse herself in it. What’s the problem?”
Reality Check
Keepin' it 100
There an article from the LA Times about the aftermath with all the shootings in Compton due to the retaliation for Pac's murder. Here is the article I was able to get:
Tupac Shakur's killing brought '10 days of hell' to Compton
Tupac Shakur was killed in Las Vegas, but it was in Compton — home to both the rapper’s allies and his accused killers — where the aftershocks erupted.
They started two days after Shakur was fatally shot the night of Sept. 7, 1996, when someone opened fire from a gray sedan with tinted windows and chrome rims on Alondra Boulevard, hitting a leader of a local Crip gang — as well as a 10-year-old girl.
So began “the 10 days of hell,” said Robert Ladd, a former Compton detective who investigated Shakur’s death and the retaliatory killings that spiraled from it. By its end, three people were dead and 10 were wounded.
Solving Shakur’s killing was not the responsibility of the Compton police.
But as detectives investigated the back-and-forth shootings that stemmed from it in their own city, they quickly pieced together — through informants, field interviews and seizures of firearms and other evidence — a remarkably prescient account of why the rapper was killed and who was behind it.
Compton detectives laid out their findings in an affidavit that authorized them to search 38 homes and apartments in Compton, Long Beach, Lynwood, Downey, Paramount and Lakewood.
The document, written just 18 days after Shakur was shot, proved to be a road map for the Las Vegas investigation, which would drag on for the next 27 years while the rapper’s death became the subject of endless books, documentaries and conspiracy theories.
“We knew things would play out sooner or later. I just didn’t think it would take 26, 27 years,” Ladd said.
The affidavit shows that within five days of Shakur’s shooting, Compton police heard from an informant a story nearly identical to the account given by Las Vegas prosecutors last month in announcing that a suspect — a well-known Compton gang member named in the 1996 affidavit — had at last been arrested in the rapper’s death.
Far from the sinister and complex plots that have filled the vacuum of credible information about Shakur’s death, it is a story that is simple and petty and short: A necklace snatched in a suburban shopping mall. A beat-down in a casino lobby. Payback delivered from a gun extended from a rented Cadillac’s window.
A shooting in Vegas, a ‘war’ in Compton
With the exception of Shakur himself, every player involved in the rapper’s death was from Compton. Marion “Suge” Knight, who signed Shakur to his label, Death Row Records, grew up in the city and surrounded himself with members of a local Bloods gang, Mob Piru.
In 1996, Compton’s 10 square miles were divided among 55 gangs, said Ladd, who along with his partner, Tim Brennan, wrote a book about the 15 years they spent on the police force called “Once Upon a Time in Compton.” They patrolled the city until Compton disbanded its police department in 2000 in favor of contracting with the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department.
“There wasn’t one residential street in Compton that wasn’t claimed by a gang,” Ladd told The Times. Compton was a more violent place then, recording 70 to 80 homicides a year, he said. In 2022, by comparison, the Sheriff’s Department’s Compton station saw 16 killings in the city and surrounding unincorporated areas.
Even in a city where death came easily and often, the violence that followed Shakur’s killing was startling. Two days after he was shot, Darnell Brim, a senior member of the Southside Crips, was shot in the back on Alondra Boulevard in Compton, Brennan wrote in the search warrant affidavit. A 10-year-old girl was also struck by gunfire and was seriously wounded.
The next day, a member of Leuders Park Piru, a Bloods gang aligned with Mob Piru, was shot on Bradfield Street. The gunman, who opened fire from a blue Chevrolet Blazer, was said by informants to be a Southside Crip, Brennan wrote. Later that day on the same street, a man whose brother worked as a security guard for Death Row Records was shot by someone who fired from a red Nissan.
To Ladd, it was clear that the Southside Crips — blamed for Shakur’s shooting — were retaliating against Piru gangs affiliated with Knight and his record label. “Why else would they be going to war?” he said.
The Southside Crips claimed a swath of Compton bounded by Alondra Boulevard to the north, Greenleaf Boulevard to the south, Long Beach Boulevard to the east and Santa Fe Avenue to the west.
“They were one big happy family at one time,” Ladd said.
Then a schism opened between two crews, both named after the streets where most of their members grew up. On one side was the Glencoe crew and on the other, the Burris crew led by Duane “Keefe D” Davis.
Ladd watched Davis go from “just a gang banger hanging out in the street” to one of the biggest dealers of rock cocaine in Compton after getting out of prison, he said, where Davis had made connections with drug suppliers.
The same day the two Bloods were shot on Bradfield Avenue, an informant told Compton police that a man had delivered a duffel bag of guns to a complex on Glencoe Avenue that the Southside Crips used as a safe house, Brennan wrote. The source said the gang members had told residents to stay indoors because “it’s on.”
When police searched the duplex that night, they found an assault rifle, two handguns, seven ski masks, a box of .40-caliber ammunition and a duffel bag with a Southwest Airlines baggage tag that listed a Las Vegas address.
The next morning, Bobby Finch, who grew up in the Southside Crips’ neighborhood and had friends in the gang, was killed in a drive-by on Mayo Avenue. Informants said the shooter, who fired from a Honda Civic hatchback, was a Mob Piru, Brennan wrote.
Then detectives got a tip about a car that would prove critical in the Shakur case: Jerry Bonds, a Southside Crip nicknamed Monk, had brought a rented late-model white Cadillac to an auto repair shop, the informant reported. Bonds was present when police found the guns, ski masks and duffel bag at the safe house, Brennan wrote. The tipster said the car stood out because “word on the street was that Southside Crips driving a white Cadillac were responsible for shooting Tupac Shakur in Las Vegas.”
Ladd said he and Brennan were never able to track down the Cadillac. (Bonds was gunned down at the Conga Room, a popular nightclub in L.A., in 2002.)
The next day, the Compton detectives met with another informant who drew a line from Shakur’s death to a fight that broke out about two months earlier at the Lakewood mall. The source, described by Brennan as being affiliated with the Death Row Records-Mob Piru camp, said a Mob Piru named Travon Lane was shopping at a Foot Locker when some Southside Crips confronted him and took his “Death Row” necklace.
The night of Sept. 7, 1996, after watching Mike Tyson knock out Bruce Seldon at the MGM, Shakur and his entourage spotted a lone Southside Crip in the casino’s lobby, the source told detectives. Lane recognized him as one of the men who stole his necklace and pointed him out to Shakur, who had recently inked “MOB” on his arm, the informant said.
According to the source, Shakur asked the man, “You from the south?” before attacking him. Several Pirus jumped in, beating the man until the hotel’s security guards broke it up.
Afterward, the Death Row entourage formed a caravan with Shakur and Knight in the lead in Knight’s black BMW and headed to a nightspot called Club 662. The numbers “6-6-2,” Brennan noted, spell out “MOB” on a telephone. While Knight and Shakur waited at a red light, a white Cadillac pulled alongside, the informant said. A man stepped out of the passenger seat “talking s—,” the source claimed, then pulled out a gun and started shooting.
That night, after Shakur and Knight were hospitalized, their entourage talked about the shooting at Club 662. Lane, the informant said, “was telling everyone that the shooter was the same person they jumped at the MGM.” Lane identified him as “Keefe D’s nephew from the Southside Crips.”
On Sept. 13, 1996, Shakur died from his wounds. At noon that day in Compton, a man armed with a revolver killed Marcus Childs and Timothy Flanagan, members of the Fruit Town and Elm Lane Piru gangs, respectively, Brennan wrote. A bystander was also wounded. Informants said the shooter was a member of either the Southside Crips or their affiliates, the Chester Street Crips.
A trail of death from Las Vegas
In the next 12 hours, five people — one a Chester Street Crip — were shot and wounded, Brennan wrote. The suspects were members of the Treetop, Fruit Town, Leuders Park, Elm Lane and Cedar Block Piru gangs.
Compton police and sheriff’s deputies met with homicide detectives from Las Vegas, who showed them a videotape of the assault in the MGM’s lobby. The tape, Brennan wrote, showed Shakur, Knight and their entourage beating Orlando Anderson, a Southside Crip and nephew of Davis.
The Vegas detectives said they’d gotten anonymous phone calls saying someone called “Baby Lane” had shot Shakur. Brennan and Ladd knew this was Anderson’s nickname.
At the time, however, the Las Vegas detective leading the investigation discounted a connection between the beating and Shakur’s shooting, saying Anderson “probably didn’t even know it was Tupac Shakur” who attacked him.
A judge authorized the Compton police to search the homes of virtually everyone on either side of the Crip-Piru war. Arrested on that day in October 1996 were Anderson and two of his closest friends, DeAndre Smith and Terrence Brown.
The Vegas police sent two detectives to interview them, Ladd recalled, but they didn’t get very far. “They weren’t prepared or had the know-how to talk to gang members,” he said.
Anderson admitted being in Las Vegas the night Shakur was shot but denied having anything to do with it, Ladd said.
Ladd didn’t believe the Las Vegas police realized the significance of Shakur’s death.
“We always felt Vegas at the time was trying to become family-oriented,” he said. The city was trying to draw tourists to its casinos and families to its subdivisions — an image antithetical to out-of-town gangsters shooting it out in the street.
“They just kind of wanted it to go away,” he said. “And of course, it didn’t; in fact, it just got bigger. They didn’t realize, to me, how big Tupac really was.”
A year after Shakur was killed — and after the rapper’s mother, Afeni Shakur, filed a wrongful death suit against him — Anderson told The Times he was innocent and dismissed the Compton police investigation as “fiction.”
“I don’t own a gun and I’ve never killed anybody,” he said. “My moms didn’t raise me like that.”
Eight months later, Anderson and a friend, Michael Dorrough, spotted some members of the Corner Pocket Crips who owed him money from a drug deal at a car wash in Compton, Ladd said. When the bullets stopped flying, Anderson, 23, and Jerry Stone, 25, lay dead and Stone’s uncle, Michael Stone, 43, was fatally wounded. Dorrough was convicted of murder and is serving life in prison.
Tupac Shakur's killing brought ‘10 days of hell’ to Compton. The bloodshed helped crack the case
Tupac Shakur was killed in Las Vegas, but it was in Compton — home to both the rapper’s allies and his accused killers — where the aftershocks erupted.
They started two days after Shakur was fatally shot the night of Sept. 7, 1996, when someone opened fire from a gray sedan with tinted windows and chrome rims on Alondra Boulevard, hitting a leader of a local Crip gang — as well as a 10-year-old girl.
So began “the 10 days of hell,” said Robert Ladd, a former Compton detective who investigated Shakur’s death and the retaliatory killings that spiraled from it. By its end, three people were dead and 10 were wounded.
Solving Shakur’s killing was not the responsibility of the Compton police.
But as detectives investigated the back-and-forth shootings that stemmed from it in their own city, they quickly pieced together — through informants, field interviews and seizures of firearms and other evidence — a remarkably prescient account of why the rapper was killed and who was behind it.
Compton detectives laid out their findings in an affidavit that authorized them to search 38 homes and apartments in Compton, Long Beach, Lynwood, Downey, Paramount and Lakewood.
The document, written just 18 days after Shakur was shot, proved to be a road map for the Las Vegas investigation, which would drag on for the next 27 years while the rapper’s death became the subject of endless books, documentaries and conspiracy theories.
“We knew things would play out sooner or later. I just didn’t think it would take 26, 27 years,” Ladd said.
The affidavit shows that within five days of Shakur’s shooting, Compton police heard from an informant a story nearly identical to the account given by Las Vegas prosecutors last month in announcing that a suspect — a well-known Compton gang member named in the 1996 affidavit — had at last been arrested in the rapper’s death.
Far from the sinister and complex plots that have filled the vacuum of credible information about Shakur’s death, it is a story that is simple and petty and short: A necklace snatched in a suburban shopping mall. A beat-down in a casino lobby. Payback delivered from a gun extended from a rented Cadillac’s window.
A shooting in Vegas, a ‘war’ in Compton
With the exception of Shakur himself, every player involved in the rapper’s death was from Compton. Marion “Suge” Knight, who signed Shakur to his label, Death Row Records, grew up in the city and surrounded himself with members of a local Bloods gang, Mob Piru.
In 1996, Compton’s 10 square miles were divided among 55 gangs, said Ladd, who along with his partner, Tim Brennan, wrote a book about the 15 years they spent on the police force called “Once Upon a Time in Compton.” They patrolled the city until Compton disbanded its police department in 2000 in favor of contracting with the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department.
“There wasn’t one residential street in Compton that wasn’t claimed by a gang,” Ladd told The Times. Compton was a more violent place then, recording 70 to 80 homicides a year, he said. In 2022, by comparison, the Sheriff’s Department’s Compton station saw 16 killings in the city and surrounding unincorporated areas.
Even in a city where death came easily and often, the violence that followed Shakur’s killing was startling. Two days after he was shot, Darnell Brim, a senior member of the Southside Crips, was shot in the back on Alondra Boulevard in Compton, Brennan wrote in the search warrant affidavit. A 10-year-old girl was also struck by gunfire and was seriously wounded.
The next day, a member of Leuders Park Piru, a Bloods gang aligned with Mob Piru, was shot on Bradfield Street. The gunman, who opened fire from a blue Chevrolet Blazer, was said by informants to be a Southside Crip, Brennan wrote. Later that day on the same street, a man whose brother worked as a security guard for Death Row Records was shot by someone who fired from a red Nissan.
To Ladd, it was clear that the Southside Crips — blamed for Shakur’s shooting — were retaliating against Piru gangs affiliated with Knight and his record label. “Why else would they be going to war?” he said.
The Southside Crips claimed a swath of Compton bounded by Alondra Boulevard to the north, Greenleaf Boulevard to the south, Long Beach Boulevard to the east and Santa Fe Avenue to the west.
“They were one big happy family at one time,” Ladd said.
Then a schism opened between two crews, both named after the streets where most of their members grew up. On one side was the Glencoe crew and on the other, the Burris crew led by Duane “Keefe D” Davis.
Ladd watched Davis go from “just a gang banger hanging out in the street” to one of the biggest dealers of rock cocaine in Compton after getting out of prison, he said, where Davis had made connections with drug suppliers.
The same day the two Bloods were shot on Bradfield Avenue, an informant told Compton police that a man had delivered a duffel bag of guns to a complex on Glencoe Avenue that the Southside Crips used as a safe house, Brennan wrote. The source said the gang members had told residents to stay indoors because “it’s on.”
When police searched the duplex that night, they found an assault rifle, two handguns, seven ski masks, a box of .40-caliber ammunition and a duffel bag with a Southwest Airlines baggage tag that listed a Las Vegas address.
The next morning, Bobby Finch, who grew up in the Southside Crips’ neighborhood and had friends in the gang, was killed in a drive-by on Mayo Avenue. Informants said the shooter, who fired from a Honda Civic hatchback, was a Mob Piru, Brennan wrote.
Then detectives got a tip about a car that would prove critical in the Shakur case: Jerry Bonds, a Southside Crip nicknamed Monk, had brought a rented late-model white Cadillac to an auto repair shop, the informant reported. Bonds was present when police found the guns, ski masks and duffel bag at the safe house, Brennan wrote. The tipster said the car stood out because “word on the street was that Southside Crips driving a white Cadillac were responsible for shooting Tupac Shakur in Las Vegas.”
Ladd said he and Brennan were never able to track down the Cadillac. (Bonds was gunned down at the Conga Room, a popular nightclub in L.A., in 2002.)
The next day, the Compton detectives met with another informant who drew a line from Shakur’s death to a fight that broke out about two months earlier at the Lakewood mall. The source, described by Brennan as being affiliated with the Death Row Records-Mob Piru camp, said a Mob Piru named Travon Lane was shopping at a Foot Locker when some Southside Crips confronted him and took his “Death Row” necklace.
The night of Sept. 7, 1996, after watching Mike Tyson knock out Bruce Seldon at the MGM, Shakur and his entourage spotted a lone Southside Crip in the casino’s lobby, the source told detectives. Lane recognized him as one of the men who stole his necklace and pointed him out to Shakur, who had recently inked “MOB” on his arm, the informant said.
According to the source, Shakur asked the man, “You from the south?” before attacking him. Several Pirus jumped in, beating the man until the hotel’s security guards broke it up.
Afterward, the Death Row entourage formed a caravan with Shakur and Knight in the lead in Knight’s black BMW and headed to a nightspot called Club 662. The numbers “6-6-2,” Brennan noted, spell out “MOB” on a telephone. While Knight and Shakur waited at a red light, a white Cadillac pulled alongside, the informant said. A man stepped out of the passenger seat “talking s—,” the source claimed, then pulled out a gun and started shooting.
That night, after Shakur and Knight were hospitalized, their entourage talked about the shooting at Club 662. Lane, the informant said, “was telling everyone that the shooter was the same person they jumped at the MGM.” Lane identified him as “Keefe D’s nephew from the Southside Crips.”
On Sept. 13, 1996, Shakur died from his wounds. At noon that day in Compton, a man armed with a revolver killed Marcus Childs and Timothy Flanagan, members of the Fruit Town and Elm Lane Piru gangs, respectively, Brennan wrote. A bystander was also wounded. Informants said the shooter was a member of either the Southside Crips or their affiliates, the Chester Street Crips.
A trail of death from Las Vegas
In the next 12 hours, five people — one a Chester Street Crip — were shot and wounded, Brennan wrote. The suspects were members of the Treetop, Fruit Town, Leuders Park, Elm Lane and Cedar Block Piru gangs.
Compton police and sheriff’s deputies met with homicide detectives from Las Vegas, who showed them a videotape of the assault in the MGM’s lobby. The tape, Brennan wrote, showed Shakur, Knight and their entourage beating Orlando Anderson, a Southside Crip and nephew of Davis.
The Vegas detectives said they’d gotten anonymous phone calls saying someone called “Baby Lane” had shot Shakur. Brennan and Ladd knew this was Anderson’s nickname.
At the time, however, the Las Vegas detective leading the investigation discounted a connection between the beating and Shakur’s shooting, saying Anderson “probably didn’t even know it was Tupac Shakur” who attacked him.
A judge authorized the Compton police to search the homes of virtually everyone on either side of the Crip-Piru war. Arrested on that day in October 1996 were Anderson and two of his closest friends, DeAndre Smith and Terrence Brown.
The Vegas police sent two detectives to interview them, Ladd recalled, but they didn’t get very far. “They weren’t prepared or had the know-how to talk to gang members,” he said.
Anderson admitted being in Las Vegas the night Shakur was shot but denied having anything to do with it, Ladd said.
Ladd didn’t believe the Las Vegas police realized the significance of Shakur’s death.
“We always felt Vegas at the time was trying to become family-oriented,” he said. The city was trying to draw tourists to its casinos and families to its subdivisions — an image antithetical to out-of-town gangsters shooting it out in the street.
“They just kind of wanted it to go away,” he said. “And of course, it didn’t; in fact, it just got bigger. They didn’t realize, to me, how big Tupac really was.”
A year after Shakur was killed — and after the rapper’s mother, Afeni Shakur, filed a wrongful death suit against him — Anderson told The Times he was innocent and dismissed the Compton police investigation as “fiction.”
“I don’t own a gun and I’ve never killed anybody,” he said. “My moms didn’t raise me like that.”
Eight months later, Anderson and a friend, Michael Dorrough, spotted some members of the Corner Pocket Crips who owed him money from a drug deal at a car wash in Compton, Ladd said. When the bullets stopped flying, Anderson, 23, and Jerry Stone, 25, lay dead and Stone’s uncle, Michael Stone, 43, was fatally wounded. Dorrough was convicted of murder and is serving life in prison.
Tupac Shakur's killing brought ‘10 days of hell’ to Compton. The bloodshed helped crack the case
For the TLDR version, Robert Ladd touched upon here:
If you actually think this humanized Puffy, after watching him say he had bathe himself in peroxide after being outside with common people for 2 hours in Harlem (which he claims as his hometown), then you would probably let Puffy pour baby oil all over you tooJa Rule, like many others on this site cannot believe how 50 came out on top with this one.
First it was 50, jealous and hating to "all he did was put his name to it anyway"
Now Ja and others are posting accusations as if there's footage of 50 putting hands and feet on bytches
Funny thing is, this doc humanized Puff in many ways.
