The Endless Fall of Suge Knight He Sold America on a West Coast Gangster Fantasy — and Embodied It
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The Endless Fall of Suge Knight He sold America on a West Coast gangster fantasy — and embodied it. Then the bills came due BY MATT DIEHL July 6, 2015 Share Tweet Share Comment Email This could finally be the end of the road for Suge Knight, who helped bring West Coast gangsta rap to the mainstream. Photo illustration by Sean McCabe On March 20th, inside the high-security wing of Los Angeles' Clara Shortridge Foltz Criminal Justice Center, the man once called "the most feared man in hip-hop" is looking more like the 50-year-old with chronic health issues that he is. Suge Knight sits in shackles, wearing an orange prison jumpsuit and chunky glasses, his beard flecked with gray, listening impassively. It's the end of the day's proceedings, and Judge Ronald S. Coen is announcing the bail for Knight, who is facing charges of murder, attempted murder and hit-and-run: "In this court's opinion, $25 million is reasonable, and it is so set." A gasp erupts from Knight's row of supporters — some of whom sport red clothing or accessories, a color associated with the Bloods and Piru street gangs. The most shocked are Knight's family, who have attended nearly all of his court dates: his parents, along with his fiancee, Toilin Kelly, and sister Karen Anderson. "He's never had a bail like that before!" Anderson exclaims. SIDEBAR 30 Most Embarrassing Rock-Star Arrests » As attendees exit and Knight is escorted out by the bailiffs, Knight's attorney Matthew Fletcher pleads with Coen to reconsider. Fletcher points out that Knight has been held in solitary confinement for nearly three months, with next to no contact with family or friends. ("They wouldn't allow this at Guantánamo Bay," Fletcher says.) The lawyer goes on to complain about Knight's treatment in jail for his numerous medical ailments, which include diabetes, blood clots and impaired vision. The judge is unswayed, especially by Fletcher's pleas about Knight's poor health. "He was offered food and refused it," says Coen. At that moment, as if on cue, Knight re- enters the courtroom, and suddenly collapses, his 300-pound-plus frame tumbling forward onto the padded chair he was just sitting in minutes earlier. Outside, Knight's supporters have started a protest. "This is a public lynching!" shouts a woman in a red dress and blond Afro. "Black lives matter!" The painful irony is that Knight is being prosecuted for murdering a black man — a man he once called his friend — and seriously injuring another. This could finally be the end of the road for the record-label head who, a generation ago, helped bring the West Coast gangsta rap of Dr. Dre, Snoop Dogg and Tupac Shakur to the mainstream, pushing aside the pop rap of artists such as MC Hammer and Tone-Loc and putting low-riders and gang signs into heavy rotation on MTV. In the process, Knight established himself as a legendary music-biz tough guy. His exploits — some mythic, some real — during the heyday of Death Row Records have become part of hip-hop lore: In the early Nineties, he allegedly shook down Vanilla Ice into handing over publishing profits, walking the rapper out to a hotel-room balcony to show him how far his fall would be. ("I needed to wear a diaper that day," Ice said later.) In his memoir, former N.W.A manager Jerry Heller alleged that Knight and his cohorts, bearing baseball bats, intimidated Eazy-E into releasing Dre from his Ruthless Records contract. (The claims have never been substantiated.) Knight was sitting next to Tupac when he was gunned down in 1996 in Las Vegas; his participation in a fight on the night of the shooting would land him in prison for five years on a probation violation. As Knight's fortunes have crumbled, he's gotten closer to the streets, according to prosecutors. In a motion arguing for the high bail (which would later be reduced to $10 million), the L.A. District Attorney's office alleged a recent scheme by Knight to "tax" out-of-town rappers for as much as $30,000 just to work in Los Angeles and Las Vegas. Last year, Knight called out Rick Ross in a video interview: "You know you owe that bread, titty man," Knight said. "I'm gonna beat the dog shit out of you." His targets aren't limited to big fish — in 2014 he was caught on surveillance punching a worker at an L.A. medical-marijuana dispensary after being refused service for lacking documentation. Knight hasn't been charged for any of the above episodes; his current lawyer Thomas Mesereau says, "He never threatened Vanilla Ice," and that all the claims of extortion are based on "a lot of gossip and innuendo." But former associates struggle to understand why such an undeniably talented businessman can't escape this kind of small-time drama and thuggery. "I watched Suge decline the last 10 years," says Cash Jones, a.k.a. Wack 100, a former Death Row "foot soldier" who now manages Ray J and the Game. Knight already has two prior violent felonies on his record: If any of his current charges stick, under California's Three Strikes law, he could be going to jail for the rest of his life. "Suge lost focus of the business, and who he is," says Jones. "He could've been a lot of things, but he chose not to." Michael O'Neil/Corbis Outline Knight's most recent troubles apparently began like many Suge Knight stories: with him thinking that somebody owed him money. The upcoming N.W.A biopic, Straight Outta Compton — co-produced by Dre and Ice Cube, and due out in August — was getting attention after a teaser leaked in December. "People working on the set were calling and telling Suge, 'Hey, man, this movie is really [becoming] a Death Row movie,' with a Suge look-alike in the movie beating up people in the studio and all that," says Reggie Wright, a childhood friend of Knight's who worked at Death Row from 1994 to 2002. "Suge felt like they were using his likeness in this movie without consulting him." SIDEBAR Watch Intense, Violent 'Straight Outta Compton' Trailer » On the afternoon of January 29th, Knight drove up to the production's base camp in his red Ford Raptor pickup, breezing past the film's security. Dre's bodyguards would not move him while Knight was on the premises, leaving producers in a panic. Cle "Bone" Sloan – a "nonactive" gang member who was working as a technical adviser to the movie – stepped in, confronting Knight. Sloan said later that he had heard there was a "problem" between "[Knight] and Dre or somebody." The confrontation turned into a shouting match. Sloan said he told Knight, "Why don't you leave so we can move forward? You got the white folks scared!" Eventually, Knight left the set. Shortly after clearing out, Knight received a call from a respected South Central entrepreneur named Terry Carter who was at the shoot that day and was perhaps hoping to mediate the dispute. Carter, 55, was a self-made man who, after losing his mother and brother in the space of a year when he was 18, had built businesses in music, cars and real estate — most notably co-founding Heavyweight Records with Ice Cube in 1998. "Ice Cube and Dre would come by the house like it was nothing," says Carter's daughter Nekaya about her childhood. Carter was a family man, with three children; he had also taken in his sister-in-law's five kids when she couldn't care for them. People who knew Carter call him a "peacemaker." There are different accounts of Knight's relationship with Carter. His daughters say that he and Knight had done little more than "cross paths," but Knight's friend and bail bonds agent Jane Un says that Carter and Knight were "friends" and had even "explored going into business together." Carter was now requesting Knight's presence at a Compton burger joint, Tam's, a few miles from the movie's base camp. Minutes later, Knight pulled up outside the Tam's parking lot, where Carter and at least one other man had already gathered. According to Sloan's interview with police, Knight started bad-mouthing Sloan — just as, unbeknownst to Knight, he pulled up. "He was talking shit," Sloan recounted, "and I just popped out like a jack-in-the-box." Sloan came at Knight saying, "Let's do it!" and began throwing punches at Knight through the Raptor's window. The car Knight was driving on January 29th, when he ran over Cle "Bone" Sloan and local businessman Terry Carter, who died from his injuries. Los Angeles County Sheriff's Office/Los Angeles County Superior Court/AP Knight's vehicle lurched into reverse, knocking down Sloan. Then he put it into drive, running over Sloan and crushing his ankles. Knight's pickup kept surging forward, plowing into a fleeing Carter, killing him. (The entire gruesome, abrupt series of events was captured on a grainy, soundless surveillance video, which was obtained by TMZ.com.) SIDEBAR Suge Knight Facing Life in Prison Over Fatal Car Crash » "Every day, I try to forget it," Sloan said later. "I screwed up, and Terry's dead." Knight turned himself in to police about 12 hours later, around three in the morning. Knight's initial counsel in the case, James Blatt, told the Los Angeles Timesthat Knight was "heartbroken" over Carter's death.