Snoop Doggy Dogg: Murder Was The Case

Summary

DISGRACELAND Episode Summary: "Snoop Doggy Dogg: Murder Was The Case"

Hosted by Double Elvis Productions, "DISGRACELAND" delves into the tumultuous life of iconic rapper Snoop Doggy Dogg, exploring his rise to fame, entanglement with gang culture, and the high-stakes murder case that almost derailed his career. This episode masterfully intertwines Snoop's personal narrative with the broader landscape of 1990s hip hop, offering listeners a gripping portrayal of fame, loyalty, and survival.

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1. Snoop Dogg: From Long Beach Streets to Hip Hop Icon

Jake Brennan opens the episode by tracing Snoop Dogg's (born Calvin Broadus Jr.) roots in the Rollin 20 Crips gang of Long Beach, California. Despite his gang affiliations and time in jail for cocaine possession, Snoop's undeniable talent propelled him into the limelight. Brennan highlights Snoop's multifaceted persona—from a pimp managing a roster of high-profile clients to a youth football coach and even a friend of Martha Stewart.

“Snoop couldn't believe the money he was generating. Not that he needed it.” (Jake Brennan, [00:24])

Snoop's authenticity and connection to his street origins remained integral, even as he adorned a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. This duality between his gangster image and mainstream success set the stage for the conflicts that would follow.

2. The Birth of a Legend: "The Chronic" and "Doggy Style"

The episode delves into the collaboration between Snoop Dogg and Dr. Dre, emphasizing the groundbreaking impact of Dre's "The Chronic" (1992). Snoop's laid-back yet distinctive flow on the album marked his breakout, leading to his debut solo project, "Doggy Style" (1993), which debuted at number one on the Billboard charts.

“His laid back flow evoked rap's earlier storytellers like Slick Rick or Too Short, but it was otherwise totally unique.” (Jake Brennan, [07:15])

Jimmy Iovine's involvement with Interscope Records and financing of Death Row Records is explored, showcasing the tumultuous environment surrounding the production of "Doggy Style." The album's delay, attributed to the hedonistic studio parties and the influence of Suge Knight, ironically built anticipation, culminating in massive sales and solidifying Snoop's status as a hip hop titan.

3. The 1994 MTV Video Music Awards: A Pivotal Moment

A dramatized recounting of Snoop's performance at the 1994 MTV VMAs serves as a centerpiece of the episode. The performance, laden with symbolism and tension, reflected Snoop's precarious position between his street life and burgeoning fame.

“I'm innocent. I'm innocent.” (Snoop Dogg, [19:07])

The narrative captures the atmosphere of the VMAs—highlighting the genre crossover between hip hop and rock—and underscores the high stakes for Snoop, who was simultaneously grappling with a murder charge that loomed over his career.

4. The Real-Life Incident: Confrontation and Consequences

Jake Brennan meticulously details the events leading up to the murder charge. Snoop, accompanied by his bodyguard Malik (McKinley Lee), encounters Philip Waldemarium, a thug involved in a street dispute. The confrontation escalates when Malik discharges a firearm, fatally wounding Philip.

“I'm not trying to sweat you all. I'm just trying to let you know where you're at.” (Philip Waldemarium, [29:50])

This incident not only thrusts Snoop into the legal spotlight but also highlights the constant pull of his past life despite his mainstream success.

5. The Trial and Acquittal: Battling the Legal System

The episode provides a riveting account of Snoop's trial, emphasizing the racial dynamics of the jury and the mishandling of evidence by the LAPD. Key testimonies revealed that Philip's friends had concealed the gun and that crucial evidence was destroyed, casting doubt on the prosecution's case.

“A racially diverse jury could not convict him of that charge.” (Jake Brennan, [32:36])

Ultimately, Snoop and Malik were acquitted, allowing Snoop to return to his music career unscathed. This victory not only reaffirmed his innocence but also reinforced his resilience in the face of adversity.

6. Conclusion: The Indelible Mark of "Doggy Style" and Beyond

Jake Brennan wraps up the episode by reflecting on how the murder case and its aftermath solidified Snoop Dogg's legacy in hip hop. Despite the shadows of his past, Snoop's talent and adaptability ensured his continued relevance and success in the music industry.

“The gravity of the streets would always pull him back down. That was cool. Snoop didn't mind.” (Jake Brennan, [17:25])

The episode underscores the complex interplay between Snoop's authentic street persona and his cultivated celebrity, painting a comprehensive picture of a man who navigated fame without losing touch with his roots.

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Notable Quotes with Timestamps:

• Jake Brennan ([00:24]): “Snoop couldn't believe the money he was generating. Not that he needed it.”

• Jake Brennan ([07:15]): “His laid back flow evoked rap's earlier storytellers like Slick Rick or Too Short, but it was otherwise totally unique.”

• Snoop Dogg ([19:07]): “I'm innocent. I'm innocent.”

• Philip Waldemarium ([29:50]): “I'm not trying to sweat you all. I'm just trying to let you know where you're at.”

• Jake Brennan ([32:36]): “A racially diverse jury could not convict him of that charge.”

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Conclusion

This episode of "DISGRACELAND" offers an in-depth exploration of Snoop Doggy Dogg's life, highlighting the challenges and triumphs that shaped his career. Through engaging storytelling and detailed analysis, listeners gain a nuanced understanding of how Snoop balanced his street heritage with his rise to international fame, ultimately emerging as one of hip hop's most enduring figures.

Transcript

[Jake Brennan]

Double Elvis Wow.

[Jeff Probst]

What's up?

[Jake Brennan]

I just bought and financed a car through Carvana in minutes.

[Jeff Probst]

You, the person who agonized four weeks over whether to paint your wall's eggshell or off white, bought and financed a car in minutes.

[Jake Brennan]

They made it easy. Transparent terms, customizable down and monthly. Didn't even have to do any paperwork.

[Jeff Probst]

Wow.

[Snoop Dogg]

Mm.

[Jeff Probst]

Hey, have you checked out that spreadsheet.

[Jake Brennan]

I sent you for our dinner Options?

[Jeff Probst]

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[Jake Brennan]

Double Elvis the stories about Snoop Doggy Dog are insane. He was a member of the infamous Rollin 20 Crips street gang. He went to jail for cocaine possession. He became a pimp after becoming a worldwide hip hop star. To this day, he smokes copious amounts of the chronic, even claiming to have gotten high in the bathroom of the White house back in 2015. He coaches youth football, is BFFs with Martha Stewart, and depending on who you talk to, is one of the most talented rappers of all time. He is iconic, known the world over by the one syllable nickname his mama gave him, Snoop. Though he now occupies coveted real estate on Hollywood Boulevard in the form of a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, Snoop came up on different streets. The gang torn streets of Long Beach, California, streets that despite his stardom, he'd never really be able to leave behind streets that would nearly derail his career. But despite all that noise, or perhaps because of it, Snoop made great music. That music you heard at the top of the show, that wasn't great music. That was a preset loop from my melotron called slow street basa clav bk1. I played you that loop because I can't afford the rights to Exhale Shoop Shoop by Whitney Houston. And why would I play you that specific slice of uninspired Betty Everett biting cheese? Could I afford it? Because that was the number one song in America on November 27, 1995. And that was the day that Snoop Doggy Dog aka the D O Double G entered a Los Angeles superior courtroom to defend himself against a first degree murder charge that would potentially send him to prison for the rest of his life. On this episode, Slow Bossa, Stolen Cheese, the Streets, A murder case in Snoop Dogg. I'm Jake Brennan and this is disgrace. As far back as Snoop could remember, he always wanted to be a pimp. Snoop grew up as Calvin Broadus Jr. In Long Beach, California, Eastside. But up by Wrigley, near the PCH, the prostitutes roamed free. It was pimpled. The neighborhood was a remnant of what had become of Long Beach's notorious oceanfront slum known as the jungle. By the 1980s and 1990s, the sailors and dock workers from earlier in the century had been replaced by the gangbangers and traveling businessmen, and the pimps ruled it all in style. As a kid, Snoop vibed on Iceberg Slim, whose autobiography the Story of My Life brought Pimpin out of the shadows and onto bookshelves alongside books by black power icons like Malcolm X and Eldridge Cleaver. Young Snoop wasn't the only one enthralled by pimp culture. Seventies filmmakers couldn't put the pimps down either. Harvey Keitel's Sport from Taxi Driver and Rudy Ray Moore's Dolemite gave young kids in the seventies a glamorized view into the seedy underbelly of the street. Dolemite's comedic blend on blaxploitation was particularly compelling. Dolemite is my name and fucking up motherfuckers is my game. I'm Dolemite, I'm the one that killed Monday, whooped Tuesday, put Wednesday in the hospital, called up Thursday to tell Friday not to bury Saturday on a Sunday. I'm the one. I'm the one who had the elephant roosted in trees and all the ants wearing BVD's. These characters in these films were part of the hood curriculum for Snoop. Years later, after becoming a hip hop sensation, Snoop would try his hand at Pimpin for real. He had at least two women going at all times, sometimes as many as 10, all in various hotel rooms that he'd have booked adjacent whatever hotel suite he was staying in while on the road back in 2003. His clients were entertainers and athletes, discerning clientele who could afford the services of Snoop's so called hoes and also keep a secret. Snoop couldn't believe the money he was generating. Not that he needed it. By this time, Snoop was one of the biggest stars in entertainment, and his experience. Pimping along with his love for Dolomite, would eventually inform his later performance in 2004's Starsky and Hutch. As Huggy Bear, the pimped out underworld contact for Ben Stiller's Starsky and Owen Wilson's Hutch, Snoop took the streets he came up on into the mainstream and used them to turn himself into one of the most recognizable stars in the world. His star shot out of the gangsta rap scene, a scene that truly began its ascent in 1992 after its biggest group, Compton's NWA had splintered. That year, within a month of each other, two of NWA's biggest stars released what would become two of gangsta rap's most enduring musical statements, Ice Cube's The Predator and Dr. Dre's The Chronic. Both albums problems are, in a word, great. Ice Cube's the Predator is hard, mean, unflinching and unforgiving. It picks up where NWA's fuck the police left off and doesn't look back. In a way, it's what we expected from Cube at the time, a no holds barred assessment of life on the LA streets. Streets where you could still smell the burning embers of the la riots from six months earlier. Dr. Dre's necrotic, on the other hand, wasn't necessarily what they Want World was expecting. It's raw and in its own way, an unflinching look at life on Compton streets. But straight up, the Chronic is a party record. Dre threw George Clinton's sink at the project and the result was nothing short of jaw dropping. The first 15 seconds on the album are gripping. Dre's brief, plain spoken dedication is the first thing you hear. Then welcome to Death Row. After that, a harsh clanging of a prison cell door being slammed shut. Then in an instant, the vibe lightens to the sound of a last poet's vocal sample. A raspy, slack jawed voice chimes in like we always do about this time. A second later, a boisterous ha ha ha. The beat drops. It's big and so is the synth. Dre's patented Compton whistle. And then that voice. Yeah. Nine Deuce Death Row Records Creeping while you're sleeping and you're off, off on some trip you've never been off onto before. That new voice is taking you for a ride and you're in the back seat, head back, top down. The smell of herb everywhere. And the voice is transcendent. New, fresh, largely unknown. It's Dre's record, but this young pup named Snoop is owning it. From the outset, announcing his arrival with Athari and Dre, with type of confidence most artists can only dream of, has the sand to let this newbie hijack his mothership and let him ride straight to number three on the Billboard charts. The record is a banger, a crossover success for hip hop that up to that point was unimaginable. Dubbed gangsta Lite, the record was unavoidable. Through late 92 and 93. Black kids, white kids, high school kids, college kids and adults with ears everywhere got hooked on the Chronicle and by extension hooked on Snoop Dogg as well. Of the 16 tracks on the Chronic, Snoop is on 11 and he shined. To call it his breakout is an understatement. His laid back flow evoked rap's earlier storytellers like Slick Rick or Too Short. But it's otherwise totally unique, unlike any voice performed in the lyrics. All gangster. The Chronic would go on to be certified triple platinum, 3 million records and the world wanted more. More Dre, but also more Snoop. So when Snoop's debut album Doggy Style was released the following year, it debuted at number one on the Billboard charts, a first ever for a debut artist album Doggy Style along with its follow up the Dogfather, both sold in the multi millions. Snoop, whose style and delivery were instantly iconic, to say nothing of being recognizable, was a mainstay on MTV and on magazine covers. He was by any measure a success. Throughout the 90s and early 2000s, Snoop's notoriety and fame rose and money wasn't an issue. So when he decided to start pimping in 2003 again, it it wasn't about the money. It was, as Snoop said quote, about the fascination of being a pimp. I could fire a bitch, fuck a bitch, city to city, titty to titty, hotel room to hotel room, athlete to athlete, entertainer to entertainer. Snoop had channeled his down and dirty dolomite, his inner iceberg slim, and had become for a brief period only, his childhood fantasy. He'd come up from the street and was proudly, openly taking the street with him to ride shotgun alongside his fame and success, two things in Snoop's life that only a few years earlier were far from certain.

[Unknown]

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Hey, it's me, Jeff Probst. I'm excited to share that Survivor's back with our 48th season and alongside it we're bringing you a brand new season of On Fire, the only official Survivor podcast. If you are a Survivor superfan, you will not want to miss the deep dive into every episode. And we do it from three different points of view. First, you have me, the showrunner Survivor, answering how and why we made the sometimes controversial choices we did. Then you have Jay Wolf, my co host who represents the super fan asking the burning questions that you are shouting at your TVs. And finally, you get the point of view of an all time great Survivor player. And their job is to give us the insight into exactly what is happening on the beach this season. We are joined by somebody I can't wait to hear from the winner of Survivor 47, Rachel Lamont.

[Jeff Probst]

I'm so excited to join the On Fire squad to help break down Survivor 48. Join us every Wednesday immediately following the show.

[Unknown]

Listen to On Fire, the official Survivor podcast with me, Jeff Probst every Wednesday after the show. Wherever you get your podcast.

[Jeff Probst]

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[Jake Brennan]

Jimmy Iovine was losing his the record was supposed to be delivered weeks ago and it wasn't the genius Dr. Dre who was producing his protege Snoop's debut album Doggy Style needed more time. Iovine, founder, chairman and CEO of Interscope Records, had shelled out $10 million in financing and distribution distribution to Death Row Records. The label was run by Blood street gang affiliate Suge Knight, so Iovine couldn't exactly intimidate his artist to deliver. But he had no problem letting all parties concerned know that he was incensed. From Iovine's perspective, Snoop, Dre and Suge had had more than enough time to deliver, but all he was hearing about was delay after delay. By comparison, Dre's chronic sessions had been focused despite the fact that Dre produced the record amidst the raging studio party. But the environment surrounding the creation of Doggy Style was an even bigger party and sort of like Doggy Style itself, brimming with hedonism, Indo, smoke, sex, gin, juice and the occasional eruption of violence. It was all too much this time around, proving to be a distraction for the Otherwise hyper focused Dr. Dre. And so the album was delayed. But Iovine was wasn't that worried. He knew what to do. Push hard over promise and somehow eventually deliver. Sure enough, the delay of the completed record, an issue that at one point seemed like an epic problem, proved itself to be a blessing in disguise. The longer the album went undelivered to record stores, the more anticipation built. And not just in the press. In high school corridors and on the street, kids were lining up camping out at their local Tower Records in Sam Goody, hoping against hope that that would be the day that Snoop's record would be released and ready for them to purchase. The anticipation in the music industry was legit to satiate fans. Before the full album was ready, Iovine prepped the release of the single who Am I, what's My Name? And that meant they needed a video. They decided to shoot one of the performance segments on the corner of the Pacific Coast coast highway of Martin Luther King Jr. Avenue, the location of Long Beach's legendary VIP records. Snoop would hold cord on the roof of the building and hype up a street level crowd of a couple hundred onlookers. Fab 5 Freddy was enlisted to direct. He was perfect rapper, graffiti artist, all time mover, shaker, and fastly becoming a hip hop icon. Fab was the first host of Yo. MTV Raps and had starred in Wild Style, the first true hip hop film, as well as appeared in Spike Lee's She's Gotta have It and seminal street flick New Jack City. He was name checked in a Blondie song and had hung out with Jean Michel Basquiat. Dude had street Cred to spare. And now Fab was directing a video for the hottest name in hip hop. Snoop was stoked. Cut to the video shoot. What was supposed to be a couple hundred extras turned into a thousand or so hustlers, pimps, hoes and plain old hip hop heads who'd showed up most ominously. Crips and Bloods had made the scene, but it was a party from the jump. The majority of the extras were pulling on 40s by 8am constantly jarred by the stop start nature of a video shoot and the tediousness of having to listen to the same song over and over again. And because both MTV and BET standards prevented the showing of any gang signs in any of their broadcast videos, Fab at a cut and start over again and again. Guys, I can see your hands. You want to be on MTV or not? Let's do it again. Rolling. The day went on. Another take.

[Unknown]

Action.

[Jake Brennan]

Another couple hundred forties. No place to piss. Rival cruise. Another take. Action. Cut. More malt liquor. More Indo Song. Again. By the afternoon, the crowd of a thousand ballooned to 3,000. It got hotter, the crowd got drunker. The street was restless, and in no time a riot broke out. While police got things under control, a black Mercedes cut through the crowd with authority, stopping abruptly to pick up Dre and Snoop. Suge Knight was at the wheel, sunglasses Cosby sweater menace all over his grill. The three drove off, this time untouched, watching the street violence they incited shrink in the rearview mirrors. But the reality wasn't going anywhere. It was plain as day. No matter how high Snoop climbed, the gravity of the streets would always pull him back down. That was cool. Snoop didn't mind. It was where he came from. Ever since he was a youth, he rode with the rollin 20 crips. The streets were his world. He was in no hurry to leave them behind. Despite his success at the record release party for Doggy Style, a month after the what's My Name video started dominating mtv, another riot broke out. This time on a yacht. The same streets that inspired him. The same streets that contributed to the rawness and authenticity of the music he created. The music that had made him a star. That street ethos was the same element that would potentially send Snoop to prison for 25 to life. We'll be right back after this.

[Snoop Dogg]

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[Unknown]

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Today at T Mobile I'm joined by a special co anchor what up everybody?

[Snoop Dogg]

It's your boy. Big Snoop deal.

[Unknown]

Double G Snoop where can people go to find great deals?

[Snoop Dogg]

Head to T mobile.com and get four.

[Jake Brennan]

Iphone 16s with Apple Intelligence on us plus four lines for 25 bucks.

[Unknown]

That's quite a deal Snoop. And when you switch to T Mobile you can save versus the other big guys. Comparable plans plus streaming respect.

[Jake Brennan]

When we up out of here, see how you can save on wireless and streaming versus the other big guys. @t mobile.com/ Apple Intelligence requires iOS 18.1 or later September 8, 1994 Snoop Doggy Dog, aka Calvin Broadus, aka Snoop, aka the D O Double G One of, if not the biggest name in all of hip hop, was busy avoiding his nerves backstage at the Universal Amphitheater last year at the same event, after presenting an award alongside his mentor Dr. Dre and his hero George Clinton, Snoop and his attorney went downtown and Snoop turned himself in. A warrant was out for him for a murder beef, a beef that was now still a year later, on the minds of all the fans, artists, press, paparazzi and starfuckers who were contributing to the low din of sound. Penetrating the dressing room from the theater, Snoop waited without a shred of anxiety, laid back despite the fact that tonight would not be like any other night per usual, the 1994 MTV Video Music Awards, aka the VMAs, operated as a kind of culture catch all, where old icons and upstart tastemakers get to play in the same sandbox, where various genres got to share a stage, an audience, and, depending on who you were talking about, either a hit off of a blunt or a last dance with Mary Jane from behind the curtain before taking the podium. Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie Presley were conspiring to gross out a make out in front of a nationally televised audience. The recently departed Kurt Cobain was paid tribute to Roseanne Barr, hosted and miraculously wasn't a complete and total embarrassment. Bruce Springsteen bummed everyone out with a performance of the Streets of Philadelphia and David Letterman flirted with Madonna, who didn't mind? There were 12 artists who performed, most of them Rock, Arrowsmith, the Rolling Stones, Smashing Pumpkins, Green Day, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, Stone Temple Pilots and the aforementioned Boss. Boyz II Men laid it on thick with their R and B ballad I'll Make Love to youo. The Beastie Boys, once a more traditional hip hop group, were at the time expanding their already significant crossover success by recalling their hardcore roots. They brought the heat with the performance of their banger Sabotage, and that left Salt N Pepa and Snoop as the lone representatives of the hip hop genre. Salt N Pepa blasted through a medley of their biggest hits, Push it, none of your Business, what a Man and the Sex Laden. Shoot, hip hop and R and B might have been pushing rock off of the charts in 1994, but pound for pound that night at the VMAs, rock was the dominant genre on stage, but it was clear that by the early 90s, hip hop and rock were getting more and more comfortable hanging out. It started a couple years earlier with Run DMC and Aerosmith's remake of the Aerosmith classic Walk this Way from 1986, a safe venture into the unknown by both artists. It was followed up by a more street inspired hardcore mashup from Anthrax and Public enemy, who took PE's Bring the Noise and gave it new energy on the back of Scott Ian's thick guitar wrist that somehow melded effortlessly with Hank Shockley's City Street Siren soaked original track. The first three Lollapalooza lineups made great strides in bringing hip hop to the alt nation teen set, just as Ice T was exposing his rap fan base to hardcore punk with his Body Count project. The melding of these genres culminated in the soundtrack to the 1993 film Judgment Night. Seattle proto grunge outfit Mudhoney collaborated on a track with Thicc booty advocate Sir Mixalot noise behemoth dinosaur Junior paired up with Mr. Dabolina himself, Del the Funky Homo Sapien, to say nothing of the slamming contributions between House of Pain and Helmet in the title track by Biohazard and Onyx. All of it made for essential teenage listening in the early 90s. It was becoming clear hip hop was no longer fringe, it was in fact in the process of infringing upon rock's dominance and becoming the more culturally significant of the two mainstream genres, a reality that was hard to fathom five years earlier at the 1989 VMAs, where hip hop was repped by an out of shape Bobby Brown, singing the theme to Ghostbusters 2 in a perpetually breathless tone, loke grumbling his way through his top 10 hit, Wild Thing. By 1994, hip hop had come a long way. Snoop knew it as one of the biggest names in the genre. The stakes for his performance that night couldn't have been higher, to say nothing of the fact that his murder case could take him out of the rap game completely. He had pleaded not guilty during a pretrial hearing in December of 1993, and now, with the trial looming, he understood that 25 to life was a real possibility. So this performance mattered. The world was watching. And so was the street primetime, the money slot between Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers and Stone Temple Pilots. The audience was heavy on anticipation. Cindy Crawford, Tony Bennett, Chuck D and Flavor Flav, Jon Stewart, Ed Lover and the other Dr. Dre, Queen Latifah, Ben Stiller and Dennis Leary all looked onto the stage with a mixture of awe, anxiety and skeptical skepticism. It was clear that this wasn't going to be an ordinary performance. The first notes of the piano hit, and then the sopranos in the gospel choir chime in. A preacher calls out a benediction, the Lord's Prayer, and then riffs his way into a spoken rap that is part Al Green and part Bobby Bird. And we come to the crossroads like Calvin Brodus, he preaches. The piano player picks the rhythm up. The gospel choir vamps. The preacher continues with the open casket. In the middle of the stage, flanked by pallbearer thug bodyguards, a procession of family and friends pass by the casket. Women fall to their knees in grief. The thugs help them along. The camera focuses on the casket itself. It's the street spilled into the church. It's the church spilled onto the stage. It's the Holy Ghost unloading on the audience with a loaded Glock. And then the beat finally drops. The gospel choir loosens itself up into a clubstep, clapping on the beat, swaying in unison. The minor gong of hell is rung out. Snoop's voice is moving through the verse, but from somewhere out of sight offstage, the camera fixes on the open casket. Just another street funeral. Just another coffin. The devil from Snoop's murder was the case. Short film appears on the screens above the stage. Snoop bargains with him. Gospel choir belts out the chorus. Snoop nails the response. Murder was the case that they gave me. A beam of light blasts from the coffin and the white gloved undertaker shuts the lid. Snoop enters from stage left crypt out to the max. Perm snarl. Flannel clad in a wheelchair being pushed to center stage by another thug. He's hobbled, but not for long. By the middle of the verse he's on his feet. Once enfeebled, now full strength. And by the time the song ends, Snoop is standing at center stage defiant. I'm innocent. I'm innocent. The music goes silent and the audience erupts. As dramatic as the performance was, it was nothing compared to the drama of the real life incident that inspired it. Snoop recognized the gun right away, if not the assailant. Out of the corner of his eye he could tell it was a.380 semi automatic and thus its owner wasn't a real player. An associate at best. Real thugs preferred 9 millimeters. Specifically Glock 19s, handheld widowmakers, palm sized orphan generators. Fuck that pocket rocket jive. The 380s were cheaper, had less recoil and thus less power. They were dainty by comparison. When you needed to kill a motherfucker for real, the Glock 19 was your go to. But guns being guns, the assailant had Snoop's attention. Recognize whose turf you're on and get the fuck out of this neighborhood. This is your first, last and only warning. Snoot nodded slowly and kept his eyes focused on the asphalt gas station parking lot. The assailant had a final question in command for the young hip hop superstar. Well, what the fuck are you waiting for? Bounce with that. Snoop put one foot in front of the other and glided back over the streets he depicted in his raps, back to his apartment in the Palms neighborhood just north of Englewood. Once safe inside, the peace was short lived. Snoop heard yelling from outside. Down on the street. Sean Abrams friend was getting into it loudly with some gangbangers, a local crew, the By Yourself Hustlers. Snoop could see it from his window on the second floor, clear as day, the.380 strapped into the backside of the waistband on the thug they called Little Smooth. Snoop separated his bodyguard, McKinley Lee, aka Malik, from the leather couch in the video game he was playing, and the two of them bounded down the stairs and out onto the street. Perhaps it was the even odds or the daunting size of Malik, but whatever it was, the gangbangers beefing with Sean split. Fuck it. Snoop was late for the studio. Anyway, he, Sean and Malik jumped into Snoop's brand new Jeep Cherokee and took off. Snoop was at the wheel, Sean in the back. Malik rode shotg. Snoop lit a blunt, banged the volume on the console and took in the sounds of the Delphonics enemies. The slinky distorted guitar rose up out of the speakers and moved itself around the smoke from Snoop's blunt. The words were freaking him out. Snoop couldn't help but think about what he was going through. In the course of a few short months he'd gone from an unknown street tough in Long beach to having one, if not the most heavily anticipated debut albums for any artist of all time. And here he was getting guns stuck in his grill on routine trips to the gas station for munchies. And shit was heavy and so were the Delphonics. They kept at it. The air blowing into the topless Jeep felt good. This track was fucking weird. Or maybe Snoop was just stoned, he couldn't tell. Snoop felt just a slight tinge of paranoia. Those dudes from out in front of the apartment, what the is it gonna be? More beef? And the dude at the gas station with the pocket rocket. Snoop told Malik about it, but Malik was chill, seemingly unconcerned, watching the wheels go around in the passing cars. Snoop was rolling slow, laid back, his mind on his money, his money on his mind. And this Jeep was cool and all, but Snoop is looking forward to the day when he could afford a real whip, a brand new Rolls or a pimped out refurbished 67 Pontiac yellow like the color of Iceberg Slim's teeth. The thought of Iceberg Slim made him think of dolomite, and the thought of dolomite made him smile to himself. But then the gang bangers from outside the apartment, out in the open, in plain sight, sitting at the picnic table in the Palms park right there by the 10. Snoop didn't think he accelerated, rolled up on them, stopped the Jeep. The gangbangers looked up from the sweaty Mexican food they were eating. One of them, Little Smooth, AKA Philip Waldemarium, stood up. Snoop and Malik had looks on their faces that said the same thing. What the fuck? Philip spoke out. I'm not trying to sweat you all. I'm just trying to let you know where you're at. Malik stood up in the top topless Jeep, towering over the Cherokee's windshield and staring with menace at Philip. Philip grew agitated and shouted out, oh what?

[Unknown]

I'm a punk now?

[Jake Brennan]

Malik hit him back with a stern what? Philip's friend Jason London, who was at the scene later testified that that's when Malik pulled his pistol and took aim at Philip. Philip then, according to Malik anyway, reached back for his.380 tucked into his waistband. Malik caught the move, Snoop ducked, Malik fired from the jeep and Philip fell to the ground before he was able to draw on Snoop and his crew. Snoop banged on the accelerator and get the hell out of there. He, Malik and Sean went into hiding. Philip Waldemarium went into the afterlife, died on the scene, face down in the streets. Snoop gave himself up a couple days later, but only after the VMAs. Of course, he didn't end up going to trial until 1995 and murder was indeed the case that they gave him, but a racially diverse jury could not convict him of that charge and there was a great deal of debate around Snoop and Malik's claims of self defense, specifically that Philip Waldemarium had a gun and was a threat to kill them. After some time at the trial, it was eventually discovered that Philip's friend Duchamp Joseph, who was also at the scene, hid the gun. Jason London, another one of Philip's friends who was there for the entire incident of Homs park, testified that yes, Philip was strapping and yes, his gun had been removed from the scene and hidden to protect him. It was also discovered that the LAPD had handled the case with incompetence Shocker, having inadvertently destroyed Philip's clothing, bullets and shell casings from the scene. When this was revealed, the jury could be seen in the court room visibly rolling their eyes and shaking their heads. Snoop and Malik were eventually acquitted and in no time back on the streets. What did Snoop say? I'm innocent. I'm Jake Brennan and this is Disgrace. Disgraceland was created by yours truly and is produced in partnership with Double Elvis. Credits for this episode can be found on the show notes [e-mail] if you're listening, as a Disgraceland All Access member, thank you for supporting the show.

[Unknown]

We really appreciate it.

[Jake Brennan]

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