Grano-Grano
The Bando
Yo 2pac straight up snitching on record wtf fam. My image of Pac is shattered. Damn yo, there goes my fond memory of this guy.
Tupac Vibe Magazine April 1995 Ready To Live Interview Un-Edited
- Thread starter Young/Nacho\Drawz
- Start date
You should be the last talking about credibility as much caping you do...and them nikkas couldnt even keep they story straight wont nothing factual about they said.....Was he not shot at all? shot just once by his own gun? or was it when lil cease said he got shot 3 times? oh nah must be when biggie said ''I understand you get shot 5 times, ya head is spinning''.....The drs who treated him noted the bullet wounds or you think they lying too, why would they do that? or you saying he shot himself 5 times on some Issac Hayes Im going get you sucka type shyt....against all logic you really believe that?! lol come back to earth my nikka...if he said it repeatedly bout being shot 5 times..not 3 or 1, ever think he might be telling the truth?! wtf..lying ass nikkas..
his main partner in crime, da nikka that was right beside him said the only shot that went off was when pac hit the ground & that was self inflicted
That main partner switched sides on him too ...you would think if they telling the truth, there stories wouldnt deviate at all on the facts..I can put up more discrepancies too but I think you get it..its not "a fact" he was shot once..his manager was also shot in the stomach, he gave chase to the robbers before collapsing...was he lying as well? Them dudes was out to kill..robbers dont call your hospital threating to finish they job...Tupacs story while sounding bizarre at times has been the most consistent out of all, he didn't deviate any in his repeat telling of what went down that night.
I think Pac said she came WITH them.
Link to the fiull transcript isn't working, anybody got that?
MooseMouthMthafuga
Veteran
I think Pac was beyond the "kick knowledge/teacher/preacher" shyt that Chuck D was on.I think he mastered self sovereignty.He knew he didn't have all the answers.All he did was give his testimony.If you felt him, you felt him.And growing up in the movement can give you a different perspective.A more intimate perspective.You see more of the behind the scenes shyt that the average person's not privy to.Pac set at the table with Afeni, Mutulu, Geronimo Pratt, Sekou Odinga ..etc.He didn't have to read it in a book and parrot the information.That energy/knowledge was funneled directly into him in a more organic/realized way.He saw the good and the bad because he was right there in the midst.Being raised by some of the most instrumental people in the movement.And I believe the thoughts & conditions of the mother feeds directly into the child during pregnancy.Afeni being engrossed in a battle against the law, fighting against the system, while carrying Pac, fed directly into him.You might not agree, but I think Pac definitely carried the fire/spirit of a "revolutionary".Not in the general sense, but in the sense that he had a natural inclination to rebel against the norm/injustice.I think Pac was a fighter.Was he "super ultra invincible baddest toughest thugged out nicca of all time"? nah
I think he was an intelligent dude with heart.And personally, I think his music is more revolutionary than Public Enemy because he gave you the whole 360%.I Always said he was the most "human" artist in the history of the game.He could hit you with ome classic black power shyt like Holla If You Hear Me, but then turn around and hit you with a Brendas Got A Baby.....You wan't introspective? Hold Ya Head..White Mans World....Inspiration? Keep Ya Head Up....Love? Dear Momma....Anger?Hellrazor....Rage? Hit Em Up
He was a master expressionist.Nobody's fukking with him in that regard.
But that's just me
Listening to him speak, Pac always had a unique/logical perspective on shyt.He wasn't the typical "trying to sound smart"/ typical "kick knowledge" kinda dude.I know it was authentic because look at the lady that gave birth to him.Afeni might be the most intelligent woman I ever hear speak.And I mean that from a visceral level, not just full on intellect.She was just uniquely practical.The apple definitely didn't fall too far from the tree.spliz
SplizThaDon
She did come wit them. They introduced her to him. She was cool wit them and he was the only one she didn't know.
Wasn't it the same girl who gave him head on the dance floor some days earlier?
Pac's story:
Her story:
Okay. Nigel and Trevor took me to Nell's. When we got there, I was immediately impressed, because it was different than any club I'd been in. It wasn't crowded, there was lots of space, there were beautiful women there. I was meeting Ronnie Lott from the New York Jets and Derrick Coleman from the Nets. They were coming up to me, like, "Pac, we're proud of you." I felt so tall that night, because they were people's heroes and they saying I was their hero. I felt above and beyond, like I was glowing.
Somebody introduced me to this girl. And the only thing I noticed about her: She had a big chest. But she was not attractive; she looked dumpy, like. Money came to me and said, "This girl wants to do more than meet you." I already knew what that meant: She wanted to fukk. I just left them and went to the dance floor by myself. They were playing some Jamaican music, and I'm just grooving.
Then this girl came out and started dancing-and the shyt that was weird, she didn't even come to me face-first, she came ass-first. So I'm dancing to this reggae music; you know how sensuous that is. She's touching my dikk, she's touching my balls, she opened my zipper, she put her hands on me. There's a little dark part in Nell's, and I see people over there making out already, so she starts pushing me this way. I know what time it is.
We go over in the corner. She's touching me. I lift up my shirt while I'm dancing, showing off my tattoos and everything. She starts kissing my stomach, kissing my chest, licking me and shyt. She's going down, and I'm, like, Oh shyt. She pulled my dikk out; she started sucking my dikk on the dance floor. That shyt turned me on. I wasn't thinking, like, This is going to be a rape case. I'm thinking, like, This is going to be a good night. You know what I'm saying?
Soon as she finished that-just enough to get me solid, rock-hard-we got off the dance floor. I told Nigel, "I've got to get out of here. I'm about to take her to the hotel. I'll see you all later." Nigel was, like, "No, no, no. I'm going to take you back." We drive to the hotel. We go upstairs and have sex, real quick. As soon as I came, that was it. I was tired, I was drunk, I knew I had to get up early in the morning, so I was, like, "What are you going to do? You can spend the night or you can leave." She left me her number, and everything was cool. Nigel was spending the night in my room all these nights. When he found out she sucked my dikk on the floor and we had sex, he and Trevor were livid! Trevor is a big freak; he was going crazy. All he kept asking me was, "D-d-did you fukk in the ass?" He was listening to every single detail. I thought, This is just some guy shyt, it's all good.
We had a show to do in New Jersey at Club 88. This dude said, "I'll be there with a limo to pick you up at midnight." We went shopping, we got dressed up, we were all ready. Nigel was saying, "Why don't you give her a call?" So we were all sitting in the hotel, drinking. I'm waiting for the show, and Nigel's, like, "I called her. I mean, she called me, and she's on her way." But I wasn't thinking about her no second time. We were watching TV when the phone rings, and she's downstairs. Nigel gave Man-man, my manager, some money to pay for the cab, and I was, like, "Let that b*tch pay for her own cab." She came upstairs looking all nice, dressed all provocative and shyt, like she was ready for a prom date.
So we're all sitting there talking, and she's making me uncomfortable, because instead of sitting with Nigel and them, she's sitting on the arm of my chair. And Nigel and Trevor are looking at her like a chicken, like she's, like, food. It's a real uncomfortable situation. So I'm thinking, Okay, I'm going to take her to the room and get a massage. I'm thinking about being with her that night at Nell's. So we get in the room, I'm laying on my stomach, she's massaging my back. I turn around. She starts massaging my front. This lasted for about a half an hour. In between, we would stop and kiss each other. I'm thinking she's about to give me another blow job. But before she could do that, some nikkas came in, and I froze up more than she froze up. If she would have said anything, I would have said, "Hold on, let me finish." But I can't say nothing, because she's not saying nothing. How do I look saying, "Hold on"? That would be like I'm making her my girl.
So they came and they started touching her a**. They going, "Oooh, she's got a nice ass." Nigel isn't touching her, but I can hear his voice leading it, like, "Put her panties down, put her pantyhose down." I just got up and walked out the room.
When I went to the other suite, Man-man told me that Talibah, my publicist at the time, had been there for a while and was waiting in the bedroom of that suite. I went to see Talibah and we talked about what she had been doing during the day, then I went and laid down on the couch and went to sleep. When I woke up, Nigel was standing over me going, "Pac, Pac," and all the lights was on in both rooms. The whole mood had changed, you know what I'm saying? I felt like I was drugged. I didn't know how much time had passed. So when I woke up, it was, like, "You're going to the police, you're going to the police." Nigel walks out the room, comes back with the girl. Her clothes is on; ain't nothing tore. She just upset, crying hysterically. "Why you let them do this to me?" She's not making sense. "I came to see you. You let them do this to me." I'm, like, "I don't got time for this shyt right here. You got to chill out with that shyt. Stop yelling at me and looking at me all crazy." She said, "This not the last time you're going to hear from me," and slammed the door. And Nigel goes, "Don't worry about it, Pac, don't worry. I'll handle it. She just tripping." I asked him what happened, and he was, like, "Too many nikkas." You know, I ain't even tripping no more, you know? nikkas start going downstairs, but nobody was coming back upstairs. I'm sitting upstairs smoking weed, like, Where the fukk is everybody at? Then I get a call from Talibah from the lobby saying, "The police is down here."
Never did nothing. Only thing I saw was all three of them in there and that nikka talking about how fat her ass was. I got up, because the nikka sounded sick. I don't know if she's with these nikkas, or if she's mad at me for not protecting her. But I know I feel ashamed-because I wanted to be accepted and because I didn't want no harm done to me-I didn't say nothing.
Somebody introduced me to this girl. And the only thing I noticed about her: She had a big chest. But she was not attractive; she looked dumpy, like. Money came to me and said, "This girl wants to do more than meet you." I already knew what that meant: She wanted to fukk. I just left them and went to the dance floor by myself. They were playing some Jamaican music, and I'm just grooving.
Then this girl came out and started dancing-and the shyt that was weird, she didn't even come to me face-first, she came ass-first. So I'm dancing to this reggae music; you know how sensuous that is. She's touching my dikk, she's touching my balls, she opened my zipper, she put her hands on me. There's a little dark part in Nell's, and I see people over there making out already, so she starts pushing me this way. I know what time it is.
We go over in the corner. She's touching me. I lift up my shirt while I'm dancing, showing off my tattoos and everything. She starts kissing my stomach, kissing my chest, licking me and shyt. She's going down, and I'm, like, Oh shyt. She pulled my dikk out; she started sucking my dikk on the dance floor. That shyt turned me on. I wasn't thinking, like, This is going to be a rape case. I'm thinking, like, This is going to be a good night. You know what I'm saying?
Soon as she finished that-just enough to get me solid, rock-hard-we got off the dance floor. I told Nigel, "I've got to get out of here. I'm about to take her to the hotel. I'll see you all later." Nigel was, like, "No, no, no. I'm going to take you back." We drive to the hotel. We go upstairs and have sex, real quick. As soon as I came, that was it. I was tired, I was drunk, I knew I had to get up early in the morning, so I was, like, "What are you going to do? You can spend the night or you can leave." She left me her number, and everything was cool. Nigel was spending the night in my room all these nights. When he found out she sucked my dikk on the floor and we had sex, he and Trevor were livid! Trevor is a big freak; he was going crazy. All he kept asking me was, "D-d-did you fukk in the ass?" He was listening to every single detail. I thought, This is just some guy shyt, it's all good.
We had a show to do in New Jersey at Club 88. This dude said, "I'll be there with a limo to pick you up at midnight." We went shopping, we got dressed up, we were all ready. Nigel was saying, "Why don't you give her a call?" So we were all sitting in the hotel, drinking. I'm waiting for the show, and Nigel's, like, "I called her. I mean, she called me, and she's on her way." But I wasn't thinking about her no second time. We were watching TV when the phone rings, and she's downstairs. Nigel gave Man-man, my manager, some money to pay for the cab, and I was, like, "Let that b*tch pay for her own cab." She came upstairs looking all nice, dressed all provocative and shyt, like she was ready for a prom date.
So we're all sitting there talking, and she's making me uncomfortable, because instead of sitting with Nigel and them, she's sitting on the arm of my chair. And Nigel and Trevor are looking at her like a chicken, like she's, like, food. It's a real uncomfortable situation. So I'm thinking, Okay, I'm going to take her to the room and get a massage. I'm thinking about being with her that night at Nell's. So we get in the room, I'm laying on my stomach, she's massaging my back. I turn around. She starts massaging my front. This lasted for about a half an hour. In between, we would stop and kiss each other. I'm thinking she's about to give me another blow job. But before she could do that, some nikkas came in, and I froze up more than she froze up. If she would have said anything, I would have said, "Hold on, let me finish." But I can't say nothing, because she's not saying nothing. How do I look saying, "Hold on"? That would be like I'm making her my girl.
So they came and they started touching her a**. They going, "Oooh, she's got a nice ass." Nigel isn't touching her, but I can hear his voice leading it, like, "Put her panties down, put her pantyhose down." I just got up and walked out the room.
When I went to the other suite, Man-man told me that Talibah, my publicist at the time, had been there for a while and was waiting in the bedroom of that suite. I went to see Talibah and we talked about what she had been doing during the day, then I went and laid down on the couch and went to sleep. When I woke up, Nigel was standing over me going, "Pac, Pac," and all the lights was on in both rooms. The whole mood had changed, you know what I'm saying? I felt like I was drugged. I didn't know how much time had passed. So when I woke up, it was, like, "You're going to the police, you're going to the police." Nigel walks out the room, comes back with the girl. Her clothes is on; ain't nothing tore. She just upset, crying hysterically. "Why you let them do this to me?" She's not making sense. "I came to see you. You let them do this to me." I'm, like, "I don't got time for this shyt right here. You got to chill out with that shyt. Stop yelling at me and looking at me all crazy." She said, "This not the last time you're going to hear from me," and slammed the door. And Nigel goes, "Don't worry about it, Pac, don't worry. I'll handle it. She just tripping." I asked him what happened, and he was, like, "Too many nikkas." You know, I ain't even tripping no more, you know? nikkas start going downstairs, but nobody was coming back upstairs. I'm sitting upstairs smoking weed, like, Where the fukk is everybody at? Then I get a call from Talibah from the lobby saying, "The police is down here."
Never did nothing. Only thing I saw was all three of them in there and that nikka talking about how fat her ass was. I got up, because the nikka sounded sick. I don't know if she's with these nikkas, or if she's mad at me for not protecting her. But I know I feel ashamed-because I wanted to be accepted and because I didn't want no harm done to me-I didn't say nothing.
Her story:
I am the young woman that was sexually assaulted by Tupac Shakur and his thugs. I've read Kevin Powell's interview with Tupac ["Ready to Live," April], in which I was misrepresented. Up until this point I have only told my story under oath in court; nobody has heard my story, only his side, which is much different than what Tupac stated is the true story.
A friend of mine took me to Nell's, where he introduced me to [the men VIBE identified as] Nigel and Trevor, who later introduced me to their friend Tupac. When I first met Tupac, he kissed me on my cheek and made small talk with me. After a while, I excused myself and started to walk to the dance floor. When I felt someone slide their hands into the back pocket of my jeans, I turned around, assuming it was my friend, but was shocked when I discovered it was Tupac. We danced for a while, and he touched my face and his body brushed mine. Due to the small dance floor and the large number of people, we were shoved into a dark corner. Tupac pulled up his shirt, took my hand, traced it down his chest, and sat it on top of his erect penis. He then kissed me and pushed my head down on his penis, and in a brief three-second encounter, my lips touched the head of his penis. This happened so suddenly that once I realized what he was trying to do, I swiftly brought my head up. I must reiterate that I did not suck his penis on the dance floor. He pulled his shirt back down and asked me what I was doing later. I told him that I was going home because I had to go to work that day. Then, as people started surrounding him again, he grabbed my arm and said, "Let's get out of here, I'm tired of people stressing me." We exited Nell's, got into a white BMW, pulled up at the Parker Meridien, and went to his suite. We conversed, and he rolled up some blunts. We started kissing, and then we had oral and vaginal sexual intercourse several times.
He called my house a couple nights later and gave me his SkyPager number and told me he wanted to see me tomorrow. That evening after work, I paged him, and his road manager called me back and informed me that Pac really wanted to see me but he had a show to do in Jersey, so I should call a car service and take it to the Meridien and he would pay for the cab. Once I got to the hotel, I met Charles Fuller for the first time; he paid for the cab and led me upstairs. Inside the suite, Tupac, Nigel, and Trevor were seated in the living room, smoking weed and drinking Absolut. Tupac told me to come in and pointed to the arm of the sofa near him, and I sat down. After about 20 minutes, Tupac took my hand and led me into a bedroom in the suite. He fell onto the bed and asked me to give him a massage. So I massaged his back, he turned around, and I started massaging his chest.
Just as we began kissing, the door opened and I heard people entering. As I started to turn to see who it was, Tupac grabbed my head and told me, "Don't move." I looked down at him and he said, "Don't worry, baby, these are my brothers and they ain't going to hurt you. We do everything together." I started to shake my head, "No, no, Pac, I came here to be with you. I came here to see you. I don't want to do this." I started to rise up off the bed but he brutally slammed my head down. My lips and face came crashing down hard onto his penis, he squeezed the back of my neck, and I started to gag. Tupac and Nigel held me down while Trevor forced his penis into my mouth. I felt hands tearing my shoes off, ripping my stockings and panties off. I couldn't move; I felt paralyzed, trapped, and I started to black out. They leered at my body. "This bytch got a fat ass, she's fine." While they laughed and joked to one another, Nigel, Trevor, and Fuller held me in the room, trying to calm me down. They would not allow me to leave.
Finally, I got to the elevators, which had a panel of mirrors. Once I caught sight of myself, I sank down on the floor and started to cry. They came out, picked me up, and brought me back into the suite. Tupac was lying on the couch. In my mind I'm thinking, "This motherfukker just raped me, and he's lying up here like a king acting as if nothing happened." So I began crying hysterically and shouting, "How could you do this to me? I came here to see you. I can't believe you did this to me." Tupac replied, "I don't have time for this shyt. Get this bytch out of here."
The aforementioned is the true story. It was not a setup, and I never knew any of the thugs he was hanging with. Tupac knows exactly what he did to me. I admit I did not make the wisest decisions, but I did not deserve to be gang-raped.
A friend of mine took me to Nell's, where he introduced me to [the men VIBE identified as] Nigel and Trevor, who later introduced me to their friend Tupac. When I first met Tupac, he kissed me on my cheek and made small talk with me. After a while, I excused myself and started to walk to the dance floor. When I felt someone slide their hands into the back pocket of my jeans, I turned around, assuming it was my friend, but was shocked when I discovered it was Tupac. We danced for a while, and he touched my face and his body brushed mine. Due to the small dance floor and the large number of people, we were shoved into a dark corner. Tupac pulled up his shirt, took my hand, traced it down his chest, and sat it on top of his erect penis. He then kissed me and pushed my head down on his penis, and in a brief three-second encounter, my lips touched the head of his penis. This happened so suddenly that once I realized what he was trying to do, I swiftly brought my head up. I must reiterate that I did not suck his penis on the dance floor. He pulled his shirt back down and asked me what I was doing later. I told him that I was going home because I had to go to work that day. Then, as people started surrounding him again, he grabbed my arm and said, "Let's get out of here, I'm tired of people stressing me." We exited Nell's, got into a white BMW, pulled up at the Parker Meridien, and went to his suite. We conversed, and he rolled up some blunts. We started kissing, and then we had oral and vaginal sexual intercourse several times.
He called my house a couple nights later and gave me his SkyPager number and told me he wanted to see me tomorrow. That evening after work, I paged him, and his road manager called me back and informed me that Pac really wanted to see me but he had a show to do in Jersey, so I should call a car service and take it to the Meridien and he would pay for the cab. Once I got to the hotel, I met Charles Fuller for the first time; he paid for the cab and led me upstairs. Inside the suite, Tupac, Nigel, and Trevor were seated in the living room, smoking weed and drinking Absolut. Tupac told me to come in and pointed to the arm of the sofa near him, and I sat down. After about 20 minutes, Tupac took my hand and led me into a bedroom in the suite. He fell onto the bed and asked me to give him a massage. So I massaged his back, he turned around, and I started massaging his chest.
Just as we began kissing, the door opened and I heard people entering. As I started to turn to see who it was, Tupac grabbed my head and told me, "Don't move." I looked down at him and he said, "Don't worry, baby, these are my brothers and they ain't going to hurt you. We do everything together." I started to shake my head, "No, no, Pac, I came here to be with you. I came here to see you. I don't want to do this." I started to rise up off the bed but he brutally slammed my head down. My lips and face came crashing down hard onto his penis, he squeezed the back of my neck, and I started to gag. Tupac and Nigel held me down while Trevor forced his penis into my mouth. I felt hands tearing my shoes off, ripping my stockings and panties off. I couldn't move; I felt paralyzed, trapped, and I started to black out. They leered at my body. "This bytch got a fat ass, she's fine." While they laughed and joked to one another, Nigel, Trevor, and Fuller held me in the room, trying to calm me down. They would not allow me to leave.
Finally, I got to the elevators, which had a panel of mirrors. Once I caught sight of myself, I sank down on the floor and started to cry. They came out, picked me up, and brought me back into the suite. Tupac was lying on the couch. In my mind I'm thinking, "This motherfukker just raped me, and he's lying up here like a king acting as if nothing happened." So I began crying hysterically and shouting, "How could you do this to me? I came here to see you. I can't believe you did this to me." Tupac replied, "I don't have time for this shyt. Get this bytch out of here."
The aforementioned is the true story. It was not a setup, and I never knew any of the thugs he was hanging with. Tupac knows exactly what he did to me. I admit I did not make the wisest decisions, but I did not deserve to be gang-raped.
nah breh... she came to the hotel by herself
one of the main part of the story was pac manager going downstair to pay for her taxi
nah breh
Ol’Otis
The Picasso of the Ghetto
"nigel and trevor" 
Ol’Otis
The Picasso of the Ghetto
everybody around that nikka was shadyOl’Otis
The Picasso of the Ghetto
4 guns in the room
that belong to members of junior mafia
that belong to members of junior mafia
breh......... this is what i dont understand at yall (dexter issac da nikka that rob him said the shot came from pac gun and him & da other nikka had no interest in shooting pac at all netherless killing him) it was just too discipline him
he lied he didnt get shot 5 times