Caught Up in The Rapture of L.A.
The Confusing Deviation of Tupac Shakur
“I wont deny it, I’m a straight ridah”
Shakur hums before Daz Dillinger’s symphonic-like keys introduces the first track to arguably the greatest rap album of all time, to us, but to the author, it’s a pledge.
It’s the sound of a newly traded all-star player enjoying the fabric of his new jersey, Death Row Records.
The date is September the 7th of 1996, overlaps of excited chatter and sporadic beeps from walkie talkies showered the lobby.
Tupac wore toffee coloured suede shoes, stonewash jeans and a marigold silk shirt that would create bronze ripples every time he’d move.
Weaving through the post-Tyson/Seldon frenzy, the collar of his shirt flailed as he searched for the nearest exit.
Behind him were a posse of players, coaches, cheerleaders and fans.
Even though Las Vegas’s MGM grand was emblazoned with sponsor-friendly stars, the air was thick with tension, sex and money.
All the players from Los Angeles are here, all of them.
A collaborative play has just occurred, but only a few caught it.
“That’s Tupac!”
“There go Pac and Suge!”
“They just jumped ol’ boy over there, I saw it!”
As one demographic recedes in fear, another approaches with curiosity and excitement.
But unbeknownst to Tupac, the player he has just tackled had been playing this particular sport long before him. It’s a sport that involves callous murderers who pledge allegiances to paisley patterned bandanas, exclusively unique to the city of Los Angeles.
California is regarded for having its deceptive appearance through incessant sunshine and it’s abundance of beautiful women, most of whom have arrived from various states in order to squeeze through the cracks of the entertainment industry,
But beneath that gloss is a war being waged, a war that (Monster Kody Scott, 1993) knew to be a war being fought by any means necessary, with anything at their disposal. This conflict has lasted nine years longer than Vietnam. Though the setting is not jungle per se, its atmosphere is as dangerous and mysterious as any jungle in the world.
Names like Heron, Buntry and Neckbone continue to echo alongside one of the greatest stories the entertainment industry has seen, the kinds of stories that America holds so dear, that of guns and glory, sex and drugs, rock and roll.
despite none of these players actually playing guitars, they were rockstars within their own right. Women flocked to them with a thirst to be in the bosom of apex predators whereas men spoke with caution around them, fearing that the stories they emanated were in fact true.
So where did Tupac lie in this dangerous affair? By 1996 he had starred in three movies and was in the process of filming 3 more (which were released after his death) He had recorded a lifetimes worth of songs, most of which were heartfelt love letters to his community.
Yet for a split second, it could be argued that he had forgotten where he had came from.
“my attitude was fuck it, cus motherfuckers love it” (Shakur, 1996)
Tupac’s aunt Gloria Cox recounts her reaction at seeing her nephew at the helm of the infamous MGM lobby fight in (Dear Mama, 2023) with fresh disbelief
“Every time I saw that video I cringe, I was looking at something that was not real,
You are not a gang member, how did you get here?, what was you trying to prove? To who?
How did you go from believing this thing, to believing that?
How did you get the fuck there?!”
Sheer disappoint could be heard in her last query, it resembles the ever present bewilderment shared by those who knew him, the panther party colleagues of his mother Afeni, his Baltimore Arts School peers, his intellectual teacher Watani Tyehimba and the countless people within his bloodline who acted as parental figures during his tumultuous adolescence.
How the fuck did he get there?
What sort of bible-esque example was he trying to set by embodying the same traits as that of a low-level impulsive gangbanger?
30 years after his death, Tupac’s psyche remains an example in continuous review, a review that some closest to him would deem as unfair scrutiny given that he died so young, and I agree.
Perhaps it was his insightful ballads that led us to believe that he had no space for inconsistencies.
Reference list
Dear Mama. (2023). [Documentary] United States: Amaru Entertainment.
Scott, K. (1993). Monster : the autobiography of an L.A. Crip. New York: Atlantic Monthly Press.
Shakur, T. (1996). Ambitionz Az A Ridah. [ CD] Can-Am Studios: Daz Dillinger.
