Suge Knight Interview..... Credit Goes To:: http://www.hitsdailydouble.com
Mule Creek State
Prison is the fourth jail rap entrepreneur Marion
"Suge" Knight has been locked up in since he was given
a nine-year sentence in October '96 for violating probation. He's
also spent time in prisons in Chino and Delano, CA and at the
California Men's Colony in San Luis Obispo. Mule Creek is located
in Ione, about 48 miles north of Sacramento. It's a one-street
town where even his childhood pala retired policeman who
grew up with Knight in Compton and has worked for him since
'94won't eat breakfast, terming the eggs at one local
establishment "too damn greasy."
We're picked up, along with two of Suge's PR reps, at the airport
and driven to the prison. Mule Creek is a nondescript stretch of
land just across the street from a modern, gated development
built around a golf course, with houses that would probably fetch
half a million back in L.A. The only signs it's not a community
college campus are the empty gun turrets rising like forbidding
beacons above the barren, treeless landscape, the electronic
fence with the sign, "Warning! Fatal Shock," and the
coiled barbed wire snaking around the top.
The officers at the check-in desk make us take off our shoes and
belts and empty our pockets of anything larger than a dollar bill
for the food vending machines before entering the facility. No
tape recorders, no pens, no cameras, no pennies. I will be forced
to conduct this interview with half scraps of paper and a stubby
pencil, scribbling furiously. We pass through double gates, with
one door sliding closed before the other one opens. We walk into
a drab-looking cafeteria in which the denim-clad convicts and
their visitors walk around the room hand in hand, or sit side by
side at uncomfortably low tables (so no contraband can be passed
underneath), playing cards, backgammon, checkers, dominoes or
simply staring straight ahead. Kids roll around on a mat in a
fenced-off section, and the atmosphere is not unlike visiting day
at camp. The prisoners are of all varieties, corn-rowed young
hip-hoppers looking no older than 20, elderly ghost-like figures
who seem familiar from a hundred prison movies. Junk food from
the machines is piled high on one table: a microwave chimichanga,
popcorn, a Greek "giro," French fries and fruit, all
awaiting the entrance of Suge Knight, the man who built Death Row
into the world's largest hip-hop record label, a company that
earned $125 million in just four years, launched West Coast
gangsta rap and put such legends as Dr. Dre, Snoop Dogg, Tha Dogg
Pound and Tupac Shakur on the map. According to his enemies, he
is a dangerous thug, but to his friends, a loyal and dedicated
supporter.
Suge limps in with a cane, his left ankle in a cast from a
basketball injury in the yard as he saunters and garrulously
greets fellow inmates. Knight is still an imposing figure at 6'
4" and 300-plus pounds, head shaved with a trademarked black
beard, his body now a V from working out on the bars (free
weights are banned at state prisons so inmates don't get too
strong for the guards). Still, the man's been humbled. He's long
since given up the Beverly Hills offices, Las Vegas' Club 662,
the Can-Am Studios in Tarzana. His company may have fallen from
its once-grand heights, but Knight is more than eager to talk. He
gets frequent visitors, but he hasn't met face-to-face with
anybody from the press since his infamous jailhouse interview
with NBC "Prime Time" reporter Brian Ross shortly after
his arrest in October '96. It was then Superior Court Judge John
Ouderkirk ruled Knight had violated his probation by getting into
a scuffle with Orlando Anderson at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas.
The fight was caught on videotape the night Tupac Shakur was shot
while sitting in the passenger seat as Suge drove his BMW back
from a heavyweight fight September 7, 1996.The rapper died six
days later. Suge had been on probation from a '92 pistol-whipping
of producers George and Lynwood Stanley, who had refused to get
off the pay phone in his office.
His friend
drives people up to see Suge on visiting days every weekend,
Thursday through Sunday. Those who've come by include
Interscope's Jimmy Iovine, Priority's Bryan Turnerwith whom
he still has a dealInterscope head of sales Steve Berman,
promo veteran Marc Benesch, ex-Death Row publicist George Pryce
and his one-time lawyer David Kenner, now stricken with cancer.
"Jimmy's a good guy," Suge insists. "I like him
and respect him as a family man and a human being. He's also a
smart record man. Dre went back to the Death Row formula when he
did Dr. Dre 2001.' The first record Dre did on Aftermath
flopped. People can act like the Death Row concept is over, but
to be successful, you have to follow the format we established.
But I'm not bitter
This is 2000; I can't do business like
it's '91 or '92."Remembering me from a previous conversation
for HITS back in October 1995, at the height of the Michael
Fuchs/C. Delores Tucker/William Bennett outcry against gangsta
rap, Suge feels comfortable expanding on his legacy."What
made those records so important was, everyone was really living
the life back then," he explains. "It wasn't like
today, where they're rehearsing a script, where it's all an act.
Today's gangsta hip-hop isn't real if it doesn't follow the
guidelines we set at Death Row."Knight claims that his
experience in prison is the best thing that could have happened
to him, making him sit back and take stock of his life.
"I had no time to reflect before. Jail is the worst place
you can be, but it does give you an opportunity to grow, to focus
on what's important. It's good to get all this rest, not have
your phone or pager constantly going off. I've found peace."
Suge likens imprisonment to being able to witness your own
funeral, so you "know who your real friends are, who cares
about you. I wouldn't want any of my artists to be in prison.
That's why I bailed out Tupac..."
He claims he's
not bitter at anyone, not Dr. Dre or Snoop Dogg, though he hints
people have taken advantage of his absence to "pick at [his]
label's carcass" and swoop away his artists. Suge says his
own knowledge of the business is what led people to try to keep
him down. "I'm the only black guy from the ghetto who knows
the value of owning your masters, publishing, marketing and
promotion. And that's not old-schoolthat's still current
today."
Talk of Eminem brings a wide grin to Knight's face.
"I like
him, he's very fucking funny
hilarious," acknowledges
the man dubbed Sugar Bear by his mother for his "sweet"
disposition. "But why is it OK for a white kid to curse and
deal with harsh topics and not a black man?"Some things
never change, even when a guy's been in prison for four years.
"One thing's for sure
If you take a person who has a
choice between a fake Gucci and a real one, they'll take the real
one," he says. "These rappers have lost touch with
their ghetto peers. I want to pass the baton to the young guys.
When I get out, we're going to put out the real thing. When I get
home, all the real rappers will come to me. I can still go to any
ghetto in the world, anywhere, and instantly be at home."
Death Row now boasts a slew of young, mostly unknown, talent,
including Tupac collaborators Outlawz (who recently sued
Sugea charge he dismisses), Above The Law's Hutch and soul
crooner Michel'le as well as younger rappers Crooked I, Doobie,
K-9, The Realest, Swoop G, El Dorado, Top Dog, Mac Shawn,
Capricorn, Bad Habitz, Lil' C-Style and Soopafly.
Knight takes solace from the fact his company needs him to return
to its former heights. He has several private pow-wows with his
childhood pal and the two publicists who accompanied us. Although
Knight is listed as executive producer on the just-released
"Death Row Uncut," the notorious home video featuring
vintage footage of Tupac Shakur, Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg, he
steadfastly denies he is violating the court order against
conducting label business while behind bars.
"I am Death
Row," says Suge. "Nobody who's been on Death Row hasn't
had success. They've all had to go back to their roots to
survive. Remember that, Snoop and Dre: You have to come
back!" He laughs heartily. "I'm a businessman, an
entrepreneur," he asserts. "I'm not an artist. I'm from
the ghetto. Guys like Dre and Snoop only passed through the
ghettothey don't live there. But I'm not the bad guy I'm
made out to be. When you take a stand on life in America, do
things your way and own your own, that can be scary for people.
"I like Dre. We've always been friends. But he wants to be
white. I can't do that. You can live like a white person, but you
can never go back. When you start in Compton, though, prejudice
is not taught because you're around broke muthaf**kas just like
you all the time. Sports is not racist, either, because you're on
a team, and the same thing for music."
He brushes off the fact that neither Dre nor Snoop have come to
see him in prison, but it rankles him nonetheless. "I don't
have a relationship with Dre. We're from different sides of the
world, different lifestyles, different cultures. I'm from the
ghetto. I wanted to make money and I saw what drugs could do. I
never sold drugs, nor used drug money to start this company. But
both of them only wanted to party."
He follows with
a paranoid rant against L.A. District Attorney Gil Garcetti and a
supposed Democratic conspiracy to keep him behind bars, which
involves Time Warner, one-time Warner Music Group and HBO head
Michael Fuchs and C. Delores Tucker, who made an infamous $80
million bid to set Suge up in his own PG-rated rap company after
urging TW to cut ties with Interscope, largely because the label
was distributing Death Row back in '95.We begin to talk about his
early days in the business, when he allegedly strong-armed
Ruthless Records' Eazy-E and manager Jerry Heller to let Dr. Dre
out of his deal so he could join Knight's fledgling company.
"Those contracts were like the days of Chuck Berry and
Little Richard, when the acts had to tap-dance for a deal, like
strippers with $20 in their G-string."While Suge has already
served almost four years of his nine-year sentence and will
probably be out in six months, when he will have served half his
time, he is remarkably sanguine about his incarceration. For
someone used to traveling in the finest cars, eating the finest
foods and squiring the most beautiful women, he is remarkably
angst-free about his lack of even the simple freedom to put a
dollar bill in a vending machine."You go in, you get
sentenced, you do your time," he muses. "To be honest,
I know when I'm coming home. I want to spend time with my family.
I don't want a media circus when I get out. The first thing I
want to do is take an hour-and-a-half warm bath." The worst
part of the experience for Knight is having to wear shoes in the
shower. "To be honest, I've grown mentally, physically and
spiritually. I work, clean my body and sleep. I've been reading
some history books, the Bible
that kind of thing."
I ask Suge if
he's read Ronin Ro's mostly uncomplimentary '98 book, "Have
Gun Will Travel: The Spectacular Rise and Violent Fall of Death
Row Records," which paints him as a ruthless and violent
outlaw with a charitable penchant for giving away turkeys to the
poor on Thanksgiving or sponsoring a luncheon for single mothers
at a Beverly Hills hotel on Mother's Day. "Yes, it's very
comical," he says dismissively of the tome, guffawing, but
his mood immediately turns somber. "It's a conspiracy to
make me a monster."
About the story that Suge threatened to push Vanilla Ice over a
balcony to force him to sign away his publishing rights, he
snorts: "I'm not stupid. I'm smart enough to have a
publishing administration deal with Sony. I never preyed on the
weak. I'm not a bully. I pick on my equals." He dismisses
his supposed feud with Puffy Combs, then comments on Combs'
celebrated champagne-bottle and telephone-receiver attack on
Interscope executive Steve Stoute. "He definitely
disrespected Puffy, but Puffy shoulda used lawyers instead of
bodyguards."
Suge stiffens when I bring up the deaths of Tupac Shakur and the
Notorious B.I.G.two killings that many have insinuated he
had something to do with. "All I remember is getting a
bullet in my head," he says of the Tupac murder. "It's
like my grandmother said, Whatever hand you're dealt,
that's what you have to deal with.' You can't justify what goes
on in life." As for telling NBC's Brian Ross he wouldn't
help the police even if he knew the killer, he remains adamant:
"I've never tried to be a detective. We're not in
heaventhis is the real world. Whoever did this, they know
who they are and they have to live with themselves. I would never
be a snitch. We have to forgive, not punish. Jesus died for our
sins. Who are we to judge? I try to go by society's rules as best
as I can, but I don't like rats."
He denies any
involvement with Biggie's March '97 shooting death as well,
insisting, rightfully, that he was in prison at the time. The
police have tried to link him to the crime through a car that
allegedly was on the scene and was owned by Suge but have come up
with no conclusive proof. "They were ready to let me out of
prison until Biggie was shot, then they put the judgment on
hold," he said. "I was never accused of having anything
to do with it
but I'm still stuck in jail." He goes on
to claim his deals with Tupac, Snoop and Dr. Dre were more than
fair, and that he's since come to terms with Afeni Shakur to
release a massive, four-CD box set on the rapper he's dubbed
"The Safe" because it will come in the shape of one.
Clearly, Suge Knight prefers to look ahead. "I don't want to
talk about the past because we can't change it. We have to move
forward and give these new kids the opportunity to reach their
own goals. I want to enlighten them and make them entrepreneurs.
I may not be much of a rapper, but I'm a good businessman."
Suge will soon
follow up his best-selling home video with an accompanying audio
CD, "Too Gangsta For Radio." When I suggest he sign
hebe-hoppers M.O.T., he laughs, jokes of a jailhouse conversion
("I'm now a little Jewish myself") and suggests
renaming them Hamen after the Purim villain.When pressed, he'll
talk about his prison experience, writing for the first time
since college, getting into shape when he first spotted his fat
stomach "hanging out over this little bitty bunk,"
which prompts him to poke me in the belly and urge me to lose
weight. "It makes you appreciate what you don't havea
refrigerator, gourmet food. It's going to be wonderful just to
have a lobster and a steak. Prison is a place nobody wants to
be
I view this as God making me a man, testing me, having
me survive in the jungle, making the lions and tigers my
friends."While insisting he doesn't consider himself
rehabilitated because he's done nothing wrong, he still admits:
"If you are mortal, you make mistakes. But when someone puts
a period behind something, why put a question mark? I look at it
like this: Whatever I needed to learn, I've learned. I know I'm
wiser, smarter, more disciplined, stronger and more spiritual.
I've grown for the better. I don't stay the same; I don't thrive
on the negative. "I feel real safe here because I know my
environmentI know what I'm dealing with. It's like the
devil you know is better than the one you don't."
On the seeming
current calm in the gang wars, Knight says: "There's always
going to be a fascination with what's going on in the ghetto.
People might not hang out like they used to, but when I get home
they'll come around because they're still out there."
As for the current N.W.A. reunion, Knight reiterates he holds the
rights to the band name but says about the current "Up In
Smoke" tour: "It's good, but they should have kept it
more in the community. And they're using the same props as we did
in '92the skull, the low-rider car
"
He says
happiness is now the most important thing in his life. "I'd
rather have an artist sell a million records and appreciate me
than sell five million and have them be unhappy with me."The
next generation is key. I owe them a chance so they don't end up
in jail like me. I would never bring harm to kids. Society paints
their own vision; they believe what they want to believe.
"I feel I was taught a lesson. One minute I'm running a
multimillion-dollar business, the next I was in prison and my
artists weren't my artists anymore. People have to ask themselves
if they've been fair to me. If somebody is your friend, they
should be loyal, especially for someone who did so much good for
them. "But I've paid my debt. I won't give anyone the
satisfaction of admitting defeat. I'm a better man. I needed to
sit back and watch for a while...take a break from the fast lane.
I have prayed for the best and prepared for the worst. I'm not
counting the days or months until I'm out, because that's hard
time. If your friends love and respect you, that's all you can
expect." Knight gets up to leave, slowly lifting himself out
of his chair with his cane."I'm the only one left," he
says. "Everyone else has sold out. Death Row is the last of
the U.S.-only labels. I'm living the American dream."
With that, prisoner #K43480 walks back to his jail cell.
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