Interviews
Interview
in Prison
April 1995
How do you
feel after everything you've been through these past few weeks?
Well, the
first two days in prison, I had to go through what life is like
when you've been smoking weed for as long as I have and then you
stop. Emotionally, it was like I didn't know myself. I was sitting
in a room, like there was two people in the room, evil and good.
That was the hardest part. After that, the weed was out of me.
Then every day I started doing, like, a thousand push-ups for
myself. I was reading whole books in one day, and writing, and
that was putting me in a peace of mind. Then I started seeing
my situation and what got me here. Even though I'm innocent of
the charge they gave me, I'm not innocent in terms of the way
I was acting.
Could you
tell me specifically what you mean?
I'm just as
guilty for not doing nothing as I am for doing things. Not with
this case, but just in my life. I had a job to do and I never
showed up. I was so scared of this responsibility that I was running
away from it. But I see now that whether I show up for work or
not, the evil forces are going to be at me. They're going to come
100 percent, so if I don't be 100 percent pure-hearted, I'm going
to lose. And that's why I'm losing.
When I got
in here, all the prisoners was, like, "F-ck that gangsta
rapper." I'm not a gangsta rapper. I rap about things that
happen to me. I got shot five times, you know what I'm saying?
People was trying to kill me. It was really real like that. I
don't see myself being special; I just see myself having more
responsibilities than the next man. People look to me to do things
for them, to have answers. I wasn't having them because my brain
was half dead from smoking so much weed. I'd be in my hotel room,
smoking too much, drinking, going to clubs, just being numb. That
was being in jail to me. I wasn't happy at all on the streets.
Nobody could say they saw me happy.
When I spoke
to you a year ago, you said that if you ended up in jail, your
spirit would die. You sound like you're saying the opposite now.
That was the
addict speaking. The addict knew if I went to jail, then it couldn't
live. The addict in Tupac is dead. The excuse maker in Tupac is
dead. The vengeful Tupac is dead. The Tupac that would stand by
and let dishonorable things happen is dead. God let me live for
me to do something extremely extraordinary, and that's what I
have to do. Even if they give me the maximum sentence, that's
still my job.
Can you take
us back to that night at Quad Recording Studios in Times Square?
The night
of the shooting? Sure. Ron G. is a DJ out here in New York. He's,
like, "Pac, I want you to come to my house and lay this rap
down for my tapes." I said, "All right, I'll come for
free." So I went to his house-me, Stretch, and a couple other
homeboys. After I laid the song, I got a page from this guy Booker,
telling me he wanted me to rap on Little Shawn's record. Now,
this guy I was going to charge, because I could see that they
was just using me, so I said, "All right, you give me seven
G's and I'll do the song." He said, "I've got the money.
Come." I stopped off to get some weed, and he paged me again.
"Where you at? Why you ain't coming?" I'm, like, "I'm
coming, man, hold on."
Did you know
this guy?
I met him
through some rough characters I knew. He was trying to get legitimate
and all that, so I thought I was doing him a favor. But when I
called him back for directions, he was, like, "I don't have
the money." I said, "If you don't have the money, I'm
not coming." He hung up the phone, then called me back: "I'm
going to call [Uptown Entertainment CEO] Andre Harrell and make
sure you get the money, but I'm going to give you the money out
of my pocket." So I said, "All right, I'm on my way."
As we're walking up to the building, somebody screamed from up
the top of the studio. It was Little Caesar, Biggie's [the Notorious
B.I.G.] sideman. That's my homeboy. As soon as I saw him, all
my concerns about the situation were relaxed.
So you're
saying that going into it...
I felt nervous
because this guy knew somebody I had major beef with. I didn't
want to tell the police, but I can tell the world. Nigel had introduced
me to Booker. Everybody knew I was short on money. All my shows
were getting canceled. All my money from my records was going
to lawyers; all the movie money was going to my family. So I was
doing this type of stuff, rapping for guys and getting paid.
Who's this
guy Nigel?
I was kicking
it with him the whole time I was in New York doing Above the Rim.
He came to me. He said, "I'm going to look after you. You
don't need to get in no more trouble."
Doesn't Nigel
also go by the name of Trevor?
Right. There's
a real Trevor, but Nigel took on both aliases, you understand?
So that's who I was kicking with-I got close to them. I used to
dress in baggies and sneakers. They took me shopping; that's when
I bought my Rolex and all my jewels. They made me mature. They
introduced me to all these gangsters in Brooklyn. I met Nigel's
family, went to his kid's birthday party-I trusted him, you know
what I'm saying? I even tried to get Nigel in the movie, but he
didn't want to be on film. That bothered me. I don't know any
nigga that didn't want to be in the movies.
Can we come
back to the shooting? Who was with you that night?
I was with
my homeboy Stretch, his man Fred, and my sister's boyfriend, Zayd.
Not my bodyguard; I don't have a bodyguard. We get to the studio,
and there's a dude outside in army fatigues with his hat low on
his face. When we walked to the door, he didn't look up. I've
never seen a black man not acknowledge me one way or the other,
either with jealousy or respect. But this guy just looked to see
who I was and turned his face down. It didn't click because I
had just finished smoking chronic. I'm not thinking something
will happen to me in the lobby. While we're waiting to get buzzed
in, I saw a dude sitting at a table reading a newspaper. He didn't
look up either.
These are
both black men?
Black men
in their thirties. So first I'm, like, These dudes must be security
for Biggie, because I could tell they were from Brooklyn from
their army fatigues. But then I said, Wait a minute. Even Biggie's
homeboys love me, why don't they look up? I pressed the elevator
button, turned around, and that's when the dudes came out with
the guns-two identical 9 mms. "Don't nobody move. Everybody
on the floor. You know what time it is. Run your shit." I
was, like, What should I do? I'm thinking Stretch is going to
fight; he was towering over those niggas. From what I know about
the criminal element, if niggas come to rob you, they always hit
the big nigga first. But they didn't touch Stretch; they came
straight to me. Everybody dropped to the floor like potatoes,
but I just froze up. It wasn't like I was being brave or nothing;
I just could not get on the floor. They started grabbing at me
to see if I was strapped. They said, "Take off your jewels,"
and I wouldn't take them off. The light-skinned dude, the one
that was standing outside, was on me. Stretch was on the floor,
and the dude with the newspaper was holding the gun on him. He
was telling the light-skin dude, "Shoot that motherfucker!
Fuck it!" Then I got scared, because the dude had the gun
to my stomach. All I could think about was piss bags and shit
bags. I drew my arm around him to move the gun to my side. He
shot and the gun twisted and that's when I got hit the first time.
I felt it in my leg; I didn't know I got shot in my balls. I dropped
to the floor. Everything in my mind said, Pac, pretend you're
dead. It didn't matter. They started kicking me, hitting me. I
never said, "Don't shoot!" I was quiet as hell. They
were snatching my shit off me while I was laying on the floor.
I had my eyes closed, but I was shaking, because the situation
had me shaking. And then I felt something on the back of my head,
something real strong. I thought they stomped me or pistol-whipped
me and they were stomping my head against the concrete. I saw
white, just white. I didn't hear nothing, I didn't feel nothing,
and I said, I'm unconscious. But I was conscious. And then I felt
it again, and I could hear things now and I could see things and
they were bringing me back to consciousness. Then they did it
again, and I couldn't hear nothing. And I couldn't see nothing;
it was just all white. And then they hit me again, and I could
hear things and I could see things and I knew I was conscious
again.
Did you ever
hear them say their names?
No. No. But
they knew me, or else they would never check for my gun. It was
like they were mad at me. I felt them kicking me and stomping
me; they didn't hit nobody else. It was, like, "Ooh, motherfucker,
ooh, aah"-they were kicking hard. So I'm going unconscious,
and I'm not feeling no blood on my head or nothing. The only thing
I felt was my stomach hurting real bad. My sister's boyfriend
turned me over and said, "Yo, are you all right?" I
was, like, "Yes, I'm hit, I'm hit." And Fred is saying
he's hit, but that was the bullet that went through my leg. So
I stood up and I went to the door and-the shit that fucked me
up-as soon as I got to the door, I saw a police car sitting there.
I was, like, "Uh-oh, the police are coming, and I didn't
even go upstairs yet." So we jumped in the elevator and went
upstairs. I'm limping and everything, but I don't feel nothing.
It's numb. When we got upstairs, I looked around, and it scared
the shit out of me.
Why?
Because Andre
Harrell was there, Puffy [Bad Boy Entertainment CEO Sean "Puffy"
Combs] was there, Biggie... there was about 40 niggas there. All
of them had jewels on. More jewels than me. I saw Booker, and
he had this look on his face like he was surprised to see me.
Why? I had just beeped the buzzer and said I was coming upstairs.
Little Shawn bust out crying. I went, Why is Little Shawn crying,
and I got shot? He was crying uncontrollably, like, "Oh my
God, Pac, you've got to sit down!" I was feeling weird, like,
Why do they want to make me sit down?
Because five
bullets had passed through your body.
I didn't know
I was shot in the head yet. I didn't feel nothing. I opened my
pants, and I could see the gunpowder and the hole in my Karl Kani
drawers. I didn't want to pull them down to see if my dick was
still there. I just saw a hole and went, "Oh shit. Roll me
some weed." I called my girlfriend and I was, like, "Yo,
I just got shot. Call my mother and tell her." Nobody approached
me. I noticed that nobody would look at me. Andre Harrell wouldn't
look at me. I had been going to dinner with him the last few days.
He had invited me to the set of New York Undercover, telling me
he was going to get me a job. Puffy was standing back too. I knew
Puffy. He knew how much stuff I had done for Biggie before he
came out.
People did
see blood on you?
They started
telling me, "Your head! Your head is bleeding." But
I thought it was just a pistol-whip. Then the ambulance came,
and the police. First cop I looked up to see was the cop that
took the stand against me in the rape charge. He had a half smile
on his face, and he could see them looking at my balls. He said,
"What's up, Tupac? How's it hanging?"
When I got
to Bellevue Hospital, the doctor was going, "Oh my God!"
I was, like, "What? What?" And I was hearing him tell
other doctors, "Look at this. This is gunpowder right here."
He was talking about my head: "This is the entry wound. This
is the exit wound." And when he did that, I could actually
feel the holes. I said, "Oh my God. I could feel that."
It was the spots that I was blacking out on. And that's when I
said, "Oh shit. They shot me in my head." They said,
"You don't know how lucky you are. You got shot five times."
It was, like, weird. I did not want to believe it. I could only
remember that first shot, then everything went blank.
At any point
did you think you were going to die?
No. I swear
to God. Not to sound creepy or nothing-I felt God cared for me
from the first time the niggas pulled the gun out. The only thing
that hurt me was that Stretch and them all fell to the floor.
The bullets didn't hurt. Nothing hurt until I was recovering.
I couldn't walk, I couldn't get up, and my hand was fucked up.
I was looking on the news and it was lying about me.
Tell me about
some of the coverage that bothered you.
The No. 1
thing that bothered me was that dude that wrote that shit that
said I pretended to do it. That I had set it up, it was an act.
When I read that, I just started crying like a baby, like a bitch.
I could not believe it. It just tore me apart. And then the news
was trying to say I had a gun and I had weed on me. Instead of
saying I was a victim, they were making it like I did it.
What about
all the jokes saying you had lost one of your testicles?
That didn't
really bother me, because I was, like, Sh-t, I'm going to get
the last laugh. Because I've got bigger nuts than all these niggas.
My doctors are, like, "You can have babies." They told
me that the first night, after I got exploratory surgery: "Nothing's
wrong. It went through the skin and out the skin." Same thing
with my head. Through my skin and out the skin.
Have you had
a lot of pain since then?
Yes, I have
headaches. I wake up screaming. I've been having nightmares, thinking
they're still shooting me. All I see is niggas pulling guns, and
I hear the dude saying, "Shoot that motherf-cker!" Then
I'll wake up sweaty as hell and I'll be, like, Damn, I have a
headache. The psychiatrist at Bellevue said that's post-traumatic
stress.
Why did you
leave Bellevue Hospital?
I left Bellevue
the next night. They were helping me, but I felt like a science
project. They kept coming in, looking at my dick and sh-t, and
this was not a cool position to be in. I knew my life was in danger.
The Fruit of Islam was there, but they didn't have guns. I knew
what type of niggas I was dealing with.
So I left
Bellevue and went to Metropolitan. They gave me a phone and said,
"You're safe here. Nobody knows you're here." But the
phone would ring and someone would say, "You ain't dead yet?"
I was, like, Damn! Those motherfuckers don't have no mercy. So
I checked myself out, and my family took me to a safe spot, somebody
who really cared about me in New York City.
Why did you
go to court the morning after you were shot?
They came
to the bed and said, "Pac, you don't need to go to court."
I was, like, no. I felt like if the jury didn't see me, they would
think I'm doing a show or some shit. Because they were sequestered
and didn't know I got shot. So I knew I had to show up no matter
what. I swear to God, the farthest thing from my mind was sympathy.
All I could think of was, Stand up and fight for your life like
you fight for your life in this hospital.
I sat there
in a wheelchair, and the judge was not looking me in my eyes.
He never looked me in my eyes the whole trial. So the jury came
in, and the way everybody was acting, it was like a regular everyday
thing. And I was feeling so miracle-ish that I'm living. And then
I start feeling they're going to do what they're going to do.
Then I felt numb; I said, I've got to get out of here.
When I left,
the cameras were all rushing me and bumping into my leg and shit.
I was, like, "You motherfuckers are like vultures."
That made me see just the nastiest in the hearts of men. That's
why I was looking like that in the chair when they were wheeling
me away. I was trying to promise myself to keep my head up for
all my people there. But when I saw all that, it made me put my
head down; it just took my spirit.
Can we talk
about the rape case at all?
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
fuck. 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 shit 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 dick, 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 shit. She's going
down, and I'm, like, Oh shit. She pulled my dick out; she started
sucking my dick on the dance floor. That shit 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 dick 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 fuck in the ass?" He was listening
to every single detail. I thought, This is just some guy shit,
it's all good.
What happened
on the night of the alleged rape?
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 sh-t, 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 niggas 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 ass. 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 shit right here. You got to chill out with that
shit. 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 niggas."
You know, I ain't even tripping no more, you know? Niggas start
going downstairs, but nobody was coming back upstairs. I'm sitting
upstairs smoking weed, like, Where the f-ck is everybody at? Then
I get a call from Talibah from the lobby saying, "The police
is down here."
And that's
what landed you in jail. But you're saying that you never did
anything?
Never did
nothing. Only thing I saw was all three of them in there and that
nigga talking about how fat her ass was. I got up, because the
nigga sounded sick. I don't know if she's with these niggas, 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.
How did you
feel about women during the trial, and how do you feel about women
now?
When the charge
first came up, I hated black women. I felt like I put my life
on the line. At the time I made "Keep Ya Head Up," nobody
had no songs about black women. I put out "Keep Ya Head Up"
from the bottom of my heart. It was real, and they didn't defend
it. I felt like it should have been women all over the country
talking about, "Tupac couldn't have did that." And people
was actually asking me, "Did you do it?"
Then, going
to trial, I started seeing the black women that was helping me.
Now I've got a brand-new vision of them, because in here, it's
mostly black female guards. They don't give me no extra favors,
but they treat me with human respect. They're telling me, "When
you get out of here, you gotta change." They be putting me
on the phone with they kids. You know what I'm saying? They just
give me love.
What's going
to happen if you have to serve time?
If it happens,
I got to serve it like a trooper. Of course, my heart will be
broke. I be torn apart, but I have to serve it like a trooper.
I understand
you recently completed a new album.
Rapping...I
don't even got the thrill to rap no more. I mean, in here I don't
even remember my lyrics.
But you're
putting out the album, right?
Yeah. It's
called Me Against the World. So that is my truth. That's my best
album yet. And because I already laid it down, I can be free.
When you do rap albums, you got to train yourself. You got to
constantly be in character. You used to see rappers talking all
that hard shit, and then you see them in suits and shit at the
American Music Awards. I didn't want to be that type of nigga.
I wanted to keep it real, and that's what I thought I was doing.
But now that shit is dead. That Thug Life shit...;I did it, I
put in my work, I laid it down. But now that shit is dead.
What are your
plans after prison?
I'm going
to team up with Mike Tyson when we get out. Team up with Monster
Kody [now known as Sanyika Shakur] from California. I'm going
to start an organization called Us First. I'm going to save these
young niggas, because nobody else want to save them. Nobody ever
came to save me. They just watch what happen to you. That's why
Thug Life to me is dead. If it's real, then let somebody else
represent it, because I'm tired of it. I represented it too much.
I was Thug Life. I was the only nigga out there putting my life
on the line.
Has anybody
else been there for you?
Since I've
been in here I got about 40 letters. I got little girls sending
me money. Everybody telling me that God is with me. People telling
me they hate the dudes that shot me, they're going to pray for
me. I did get one letter, this dude telling me he wished I was
dead. But then I got people looking out for me, like Jada Pinkett,
Jasmine Guy, Treach, Mickey Rourke. My label, Interscope Records,
has been extremely supportive. Even Madonna.
Can you talk
about your relationship with Madonna and Mickey Rourke?
I was letting
people dictate who should be my friends. I felt like because I
was this big Black Panther type of nigga, I couldn't be friends
with Madonna. And so I dissed her, even though she showed me nothing
but love. I felt bad, because when I went to jail, I called her
and she was the only person that was willing to help me. Of that
stature. Same thing with Mickey Rourke-he just befriended me.
Not like black and white, just like friend to friend. And from
now on, it's not going to be a strictly black thing with me. I
even apologized to Quincy Jones for all the stuff I said about
him and his wives. I'm apologizing to the Hughes Brothers...but
not John Singleton. He's inspiring me to write screenplays, because
I want to be his competition. He fired me from Higher Learning
and gave my idea to the next actor.
Do you worry
about your safety now?
I don't have
no fear of death. My only fear is coming back reincarnated. I'm
not trying to make people think I'm in here faking it, but my
whole life is going to be about saving somebody. I got to represent
life. If you saying you going to be real, that's how you be real-be
physically fit, be mentally fit. And I want niggas to be educated.
You know, I was steering people away from school. You gotta be
in school, because through school you can get a job. And if you
got a job, then that's how they can't do us like this.
Do you think
rap music is going to come under more attack, given what's happened
to you?
Oh, definitely.
That's why they're doing me like this. Because if they can stop
me, they can stop 30 more rappers before they even born. But there's
something else I understand now: If we really are saying rap is
an art form, then we got to be true to it and be more responsible
for our lyrics. If you see everybody dying because of what you
saying, it don't matter that you didn't make them die, it just
matters that you didn't save them.
You mentioned
Marvin Gaye in "Keep Ya Head Up." A lot of people have
compared you to him, in terms of your personal conflicts.
That's how
I feel. I feel close to Marvin Gaye, Vincent van Gogh.
Why van Gogh?
Because nobody
appreciated his work until he was dead. Now it's worth millions.
I feel close to him, how tormented he was. Him and Marvin too.
That's how I was out there. I'm in jail now, but I'm free. My
mind is free. The only time I have problems is when I sleep.
So you're
grateful to be where you are now?
It's a gift-straight-up.
This is God's will. And everybody that said I wasn't nothing...my
whole goal is to just make them ashamed that they wrote me off
like that. Because I'm 23 years old. And I might just be my mother's
child, but in all reality, I'm everybody's child. You know what
I'm saying? Nobody raised me; I was raised in this society. But
I'm not going to use that as an excuse no more. I'm going to pull
myself up by my bootstraps, and I'm going to make a change. And
my change is going to make a change through the community. And
through that, they gonna see what type of person I truly was.
Where my heart was. This Thug Life stuff, it was just ignorance.
My intentions was always in the right place. I never killed anybody,
I never raped anybody, I never committed no crimes that weren't
honorable-that weren't to defend myself. So that's what I'm going
to show them. I'm going to show people my true intentions, and
my true heart. I'm going to show them the man that my mother raised.
I'm going to make them all proud.
2Pac
Interview
Angie Martinez
Spring 1996
[Tupac]: I'm
playin' a soldier thats all. Just like KRS-One, he called himself
God. I ain't calling me God. I'm just one doing my part on where
I think hip hop should go. Everybody else doing there thing on
where hip hop should go....I think hip hop should be about more
money, crazier sounds, different beats MORE MONEY. Cause wit more
money we could do something for the communities that these hip
hop artists are coming out of.
[Angie]: That's
a positive thing.
[Tupac]: By
getting more artists on part singing we could go into more coffee
shops and do more performances. We've been performing this shit
since the 70's. Ya know what I mean? Lets get some papers,get
some buildings, get some community centers. Ya can't do that without
money.
[Angie]: Okay,
so... but do you think thats gonna, I mean do you think that its
gonna be boom take care of your business, boom its over, boom
everything is happily ever after? You know when you attack somebody
and they attack you back, you attack them, they attack y... [note:
Angie did not get a chance to complete the word "you"
since she pissed Tupac off!]
[Tupac]: That's
why I don't attack! You think I'm gonna smack these niggas? I
aint smacking these niggas.
[Angie]: I
think by you saying that...
[Tupac]: [really
heated] Do you see me running into Bad Boy wit a gun? Does it
look like I'm doing drive-bys on these niggas? No...I'm not that
nigga, I..... Fa real I don't give a fuck if nobody understands
but I'm a soldier.
[Angie]: But
it's affecting other people though. That's the problem.
[Tupac]: [almost
yelling] Other people need to just know that life's a bitch!
[Angie]: [laughing]
[Tupac]: Sometimes
this shit, this shit I mean, damn life's a bitch and sometimes
ya know what? It get hot. What they thought they were just gonna
make millions and there wasn't gonna be no problems? You wanna
be in the rap game, hustle for it, fight for this shit just like
I had to do. I done took bullets and went ta jail for this rap
shit, done caught cases and got sued and paid millions for this
rap shit. About a muthafucka being uncomfortable cause I'm doing
my thing, I don't give a fuck for real..
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