بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Dearly Beloved Sisters & Brothers
So, I was reading the “Resurrection” – Tupac book. I used to have the video but, as is always the case, the book is much better than the movie.
He said, he had 3 minutes of peace right after he was born. Then he said, “After that, it was on.“
Of course, he grew up poor with a highly conscious and politically active mother who instilled the same love for Black People that she possessed, in her children.
When he became a teen, he started performing, as a back-up dancer, with Digital Underground (whom I still can’t stand :/ btw) and who never had a hit (platinum) record until they granted 2pac his classic “16 bars.”
So, he’s enjoying a modicum of success that came as a direct result of his AFROCENTRIC “Rebel-utionary” persona, until some devil police officers in Oakland, California, chose to make him their “nigger-to-fuck-with-for-the-moment.”
Pac had jaywalked across the street, on his way to the bank, when the devil pigs stopped and demanded his I.D.
Now, people like Tupac will never be afraid of the police like most people, especially when they possess money. They figure, “The worst they can do is give me a ticket. I’ll pay it and go on doing whatever I want to. Fuck the police!”
But this is America. And, devils already have a superiority complex, so when they confront this particularly self-conscious (and I mean self-conscious in a good way. Think “KNOWLEDGE OF SELF“–CONSCIOUS) type of Black person, they take it personally. They feel like it’s their patriotic duty as a good Christian American to put the above-mentioned Nigger back in his or her (but especially his) place.
So, after they had satisfied their innate tendency to make mockery of Tupac Amaru Shakur’s name, Pac said something like, “Shit, I’m in Digital Underground, Can I please have my ticket so I can go about my business?”
Pac’s complete lack of obseqiousness nearly drove the pigs to their wits’ end. They responded by restraining him and choking him to the point of unconsciousness, but not before they had him on the ground and beat his head to a pulp against the pavement.
He regained his consciousness by way of big black police boots kicking him in the stomach and the voices of devil police officers demanding that he get up.
Later, he would go on to reflect that he had “never had a record until he made a record…”
* * * * *
The biggest threat to America is an educated, wide-awake, successful Blackman, who can still relate to and socialize with the masses of his own people who are still in the mud. 2pac had platinum records but still could cameo at a party in the hood.
The first time I saw him was at a pool party in LaDera Heights (a very affluent Black neighborhood in L.A.).
Forsooth, I never really paid too much attention to Pac until he died and I saw how distraught everybody was.
I mean, I did shed one tear when I heard the news, but it was more out of symbolism and respect than sincere emotion.
Anyway, his bitch-ass was sitting in the driver seat of a VW bug (it was either yellow or baby-blue or some other gay-ass color) but it was packed with his homies.
So, I spotted him, me – also in the driver seat of my car (I think it was my Cadillac) and equally packed with my homies.
So, I rolled up and asked him if he was at the party we were leaving.
He just stared at me as if I hadn’t even spoken.
I was dumbstruck. NOBODY treats me like that. I mean, nobody had before or since. I was LIVID! (Hence, the reason for my colloquialism at the beginning of this story. ;) Love you, Pac!)
But what could I do, but try and regain some of my dignity and peel-out.
“EAT MY DUST, NUCCA!”
I still can’t believe it. I can understand though because I just did the same thing about an hour ago. I do it all the time. Pac is only three (3) days older than I am, so of course we are a lot alike.
Sometimes, I just don’t feel like being bothered. “Can ya feel me?” ;)
So, here’s this extremely intelligent Brother with his finger on the heart of the Black community, wide-awake to the insufferable conditions we were put in by our heartless slavemasters, and he’s brilliantly, articulately, entertaining and educating, shining a light on their murderous deeds for the whole world to bear witness, much to the chagrin of our slavemasters.
Now, as I previously wrote, Pac was raised by the caliber of Blackwoman, whom I only know two other Blackmen to be so privileged – Sobukwe Pambeli and Hakim Rahman Allah. You can tell, by just their names, Tupac included, that these are not your average, ordinary, everyday so-called Negroes. So, Pac was definitely a rare breed, but more importantly, he could not help but grow up with an intense love, respect, honor and admiration for Blackwomen.
He understood our duality, having been raised in an environment inhabited by pimps and prostitutes and their virulency. But, he balanced it with his firsthand experience with a mother’s love and the close bond with his Sister.
People often did and still do misinterpret his enigmatic relationship with women because of the seemingly contradictory nature of his songs, i.e. “Keep Ya Head Up” on the same record with “I Get Around”.
But most people who have analyzed Blackwomen understand that this is the situation that was forced upon us by our shared history of slavery in America.
The Blackwoman was not afforded the luxury of innocence. She was not afforded the luxury of a husband, she could call her own. The man who should have been hers, was not even his own. He was the property of the devil caucasian christian slavemaster, who could and would come in her (their) house and rape her whenever he wanted.
This is still going on and has been going on for centuries here in the so-called Christian country of the United States of America.
It is very easy to understand why the american Blackwoman, who was reared by these devils, has so little shame when it comes to her body.
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So, clearly realizing Pac’s potential, the government of white Christian America set out to silence him. And what better tool than the Blackwoman?
We all know the result, but personally, after studying him as well as working for a woman who not only produced his videos, but was very good friends with him, I know our poor Brother was set up.
He loved Blackwomen too much to take something so precious from one of us. He understood us and he wouldn’t rape anybody.
Furthermore, the Sister gave him a massage!!!
She knew he would go to sleep. Then he wakes up and she’s crying Rape?!?!
Have you ever heard anybody cry rape?
Please leave a comment and correct me if I’m wrong, but I know three women who have been raped (date raped) and you just don’t do it. It’s embarrassing. None of them even pressed charges.
This Sister was a paid agent of the F.B.I. (think COINTELPRO), who was out to silence the most prolific, influential and outspoken man in America, probably the world.
They succeeded (for a time). Pac said he couldn’t go to parties anymore, didn’t trust anybody, was paranoid and contemplated suicide.
But “Balls of Fire” like 2pac, just don’t extinguish like most people’s.
He began to realize his Power and Authority that he held sway over the Black Nation and devised the best formula he could.
Unfortunately, what he didn’t realize is that our problem required a DIVINE SOLUTION.
No mere mortal can formulate a plan that will be successful in PERMANENTLY solving the ONE problem (the Devil Caucasians) of the so-called American Negroes.
Ask Noble Drew Ali. Ask Marcus Garvey. Ask Martin Luther King. Ask Malcolm X. Ask Huey Newton. As Jesse Jackson. Ask Barack Obama. Ask Farrakhan.
NONE of these men were nor will they EVER be successful without Divine Help from Allah (God), Our Saviour and Redeemer, in the Divine Person of Master Fard Muhammad, To Whom Praises Are Due Forever.