This R. Kelly scandal hurts me particularly, not only because of the hurt unleashed on the young girls, but also because R. Kelly happened to be one of my favorite singers of all time. I’m not a concertgoer, and I never get excited when I hear people are going to be in concert, because I’m usually attending as part of my job. The only concert I have been to in recent years for fun was an R. Kelly concert in New York in 1997 or 1998. My husband and I sat near the stage and we danced in the aisle and the whole bit and had a great time.
The first time I met R. Kelly I was at 98.7 KISS in the early 1990s. He was part of a group, Public Announcement. He talked about how he was singing in the subways of Chicago for money. He talked about how close he was to his mother (who has since died). I remember thinking how country and corny he was back then and also how talented. And there is still something country and corny about him to me even to this day.
I have to tell you that the sexual scandal that happened with him has turned me off from listening to any R. Kelly music with the same fever—except for happy songs like “Step in the Name of Love,” where I can insert my own person that I want to step to. I no longer think of music when I think of R. Kelly.
When I went to his concert and he was talking about bumping and grinding, before the scandal he was bumping and grinding for me. Now when I hear that song, I think, “Ilk!” because all I can see is him bumping and grinding with little girls and I’m thinking, when he pulls women up on the stage to perform in his show, “You don’t—allegedly—even like women of that age.” Yes, until he is convicted (or if he is convicted, because you all know that money talks), it is still only alleged. But I know what I saw in the video. I saw him doing unthinkable things to a little girl.
I still think about this case, and no matter how it turns out, in many ways it is an example of what I was saying earlier—we are a forgiving people. No matter what scandal celebrities find themselves in, ultimately, after we’ve finished raking them over the coals and talking about them, we will still love them. They are our celebrities.
CHAPTER
2
One Bad Dude
Suge Knight is by far the scariest figure in hip-hop. From his imposing size—about six feet four, three hundred and fifty pounds—to his even more imposing reputation, this man is the real deal. He is the ultimate regulator in the game.
Am I scared of him? No. Do I respect his gangsta? Do I have a choice? I mean, do any of us have a choice?
I interviewed him for the first time in the spring of 2003. He had just gotten out of prison after serving time for his first parole violation. He had to get permission from his parole officer to travel to New York for the interview, and permission was granted. This was my first face-to-face with the giant mogul, and I found him to be surprisingly honest and open.
I was also surprised to find that Suge Knight is quite a conversationalist. He might actually be one of my all-time favorite people to interview. Not only is he very honest but he is also very dramatic. When you ask him a question, he doesn’t just answer. He goes through this whole dramatic ritual—he will pause, then take a long pull on his fifty-dollar cigar. He dims his eyes, sits back, and then blows out the smoke, long and smooth, into the air. If he likes the question, he will even crack a smile. All of this drama before he parts his lips to actually answer the question. I love that.
And I love that Suge’s not afraid to smile. As tough as he is, he has real, honest emotions. Hell, he’s just real honest, period. He even told me he was watching his weight when I questioned him about drinking a Diet Coke. Imagine that? I like the dude for that.
There is also a certain kind of justice with the way Suge conducts himself and his business. There is a code of ethics, so to speak, with him. It’s weird, but he actually draws a line in the sand and has very high views when it comes to ethical issues like snitching and betraying a confidence and even allowing sex or relationships to get in the way of making money. Suge Knight lives by rules. He is very disciplined and serious when it comes to his business, and he doesn’t like it when other people allow their weaknesses to get in the way of conducting proper business.
Suge, unlike most men, cannot be easily caught up in the punani.
Suge Knight (SK ): You can shake your ass at me all night long. Wendy Williams (WW ): Okay.
SK: That don’t mean I gotta touch it. (Laughs.)
WW: You know, somehow I believe that in you. Somehow I believe that your boys are doing a whole lot more boning than you.
SK: Definitely.
WW: Because you understand the asset of having a clear mind for business.
SK: Well, you know, my whole thing is that, you know, can’t nobody get to a level that they need to be on.
WW: Mmm-hmm.
SK: See, this is your weakness. Drugs is a weakness.
WW: Yes.
SK: Okay, if you a drunk and you abuse alcohol, that’s a weakness.
WW: Yes.
SK: A woman can be a weakness.
WW: Yes! Absolutely.
SK: Or, a man can be a weakness.
WW: True.
SK: ’Cause the thing is this, if I have an artist and she a woman and she in the studio . . .
WW: Mmm-hmm.
SK: And it was pagers then, now it’s e-mails.
WW: Mmm-hmm, mmm-hmm.
SK: Two ways, they need to throw those shits out!
WW: I hate them.
SK: So if that can go off and her dude can e-mail her and tell her, “Who you up there messing with?” or accuse her of something, and it throws her whole session off, I have a problem with that.
WW: Yeah.
SK: She on my time. She on my money. We trying to create something.
WW: Have you ever—
SK: So, at the same time, that’s the same thing with a guy. So back to what I was saying as far as I don’t use drugs, and all that type of stuff. And if you abuse that, then how could you be on point? How could you be focused? How could you know what’s going on?
WW: I hear that.
SK: And if you always chasing women everywhere you go, how could you get what you need to do? Can’t do that much shit, ain’t that much time in the day.
Too many in the game of hip-hop are sloppy when it comes to their business, and I respect Suge for keeping boundaries on his stuff. Yes, I definitely respect him.
Whenever Suge and I get together, it’s all about business. It’s not about the drinks and the parties and the laughing. Now, don’t get me wrong, whenever my husband and I are in Los Angeles, Suge has been perfectly wonderful. Whenever we see him, we make sure we have all of the latest numbers and two-way contacts and all of that. He invites us places and he’s told us that whenever we’re in town, he’s there for us for whatever we need. But we’ve never taken him up on his offer.
There are some people who, the more time you spend around them, the bigger hole you dig for yourself with them. And I don’t want to be in too deep with Suge Knight. I want it to be business and when it’s over, we can shake hands, hug, and part ways.
But it’s genuine love between me and Suge. It’s business love. Respect. And I want to keep it like that. You never know when a person like me will need a person like Suge. And you never know when a person like Suge will need a person like me to expose someone.
I like our relationship. And I like Suge. He represents the rags-to-riches of hip-hop. He started Death Row, which is now Tha Row, with just a thought and he built it into a formidable label. Suge represents the absolute struggle in this game and he proves that if you stay on the grind long enough, you will succeed.
Who is Suge Knight? His mother says he’s a wonderful man who never gave her a moment’s trouble as a child growing up. He comes from what appears to be a pretty stable two-parent household. He didn’t grow up poor. He is college educated.
WW: Your mother and father are still together?
SK: Yeah. They been together since, like, my mother was fourteen. WW: Wow!
SK: My father was probably like eighteen.
WW: Have you ever fought your father, physically?
SK: Nah, I never fought my father physically. I wouldn’t fight my father, you know.
WW: You didn’t grow up like that.
SK: I grew up with believing in respecting your parents. One thing I believe in, I believe kids is a blessing, respecting kids and old people. Now these grown people . . . so, but as far as kids and old people, I always got respect.
And because I have such respect for Suge Knight, I don’t cross the line with him. He might be the only person who, if there is something he doesn’t want me to ask him about, I won’t. I cannot think in my recent career when I have agreed to that. Perhaps when I first started out, before I was the Wendy Williams and was just some jock trying to make it, I would follow the lead of a celebrity. When I was first starting out, if an artist or celebrity said to me, “I don’t want to talk about that DWI or my baby’s mother,” I would say okay. But in the last decade or so, that hasn’t happened. I ask any and everything I think to ask, and I never care what they want me to ask or not ask. You come on the Experience, and all bets are off.
But Suge asked me not to talk about his women. And I said, “No problem! Consider it done.” I’m not even going to speculate why talk about his women was off limits. That’s what Suge wanted, that’s what I did.
It wasn’t out of fear, it was out of respect. That was his only request: Granted. He was truthful about everything else and willing to talk about anything else. So I respected his one wish.
Suge commands that kind of respect. He carries himself in such a way that you get the feeling that he fears nothing and no one.
My husband and I were in Miami riding down the street in a convertible. We were on Collins Avenue just chilling. We get to a light and look over and on a motorcycle next to our car is Suge Knight. He has a woman on the back of his bike and he’s just chilling—no helmet, no protection.
I tell this story because it highlights for me who Suge Knight is—a man who seems to love danger, seems to not shy away from anything, riding around on a motorcycle without a helmet. It also underscores how comfortable and free he is. In an industry where bodyguards and entourages are part of the tools of the trade, here was Suge Knight in the middle of Miami, just him and his chick on a bike. He had been out of jail maybe a couple of months, but he didn’t seem to have a care in the world.
Our chance meeting on the streets of Miami turned into us exchanging information and staying in touch with one another.
Suge Knight is a very touchy subject for me. I am proud of the interviews that I have done with him, both for the Experience and for VH1. I am flattered that he considers my gangsta like his—but on a different level. And I appreciate that he respects what I do. The feeling is mutual.
But Suge Knight is not to be messed with. I am happy I am on his good side. At the end of the day, you’re damn right I don’t want to be on his bad side. Not that I did a lot to get on his good side. But when you’re on his bad side . . .
SK: I can get along with anybody, and I can sit down and take it to the next level. Except for a snitch and a rat. Snoop [Doggy Dogg] is a snitch. [Dr.] Dre is a rat.
WW: If you saw Snoop in the club, would you splash champagne on him? Would you sic him, would you—
SK: I wouldn’t splash champagne on nobody. But, I’mma tell you like this. Even if I wanted to, I don’t think the champagne would go that far, fast as he can run. (Laughs.)
WW: Are you still pounding Negroes? Is that still part of your MO? Because you know the legendary stories with, who was the white rapper, the man that you were alleged to have hung [out of a window] by his feet? Vanilla Ice?
SK: Unh-huh.
WW: And all like that. The Andre Harrell story at Uptown Records. You trapped the little man in the bathroom and made him squeal. I mean, is that still a part of your gangster—
SK: I look at it like this: I’m not gonna sit up here and do no lying. I’m not gonna sit up here and be like trying to say what I did and what I didn’t do.
WW: Okay.
SK: Certain things I wouldn’t talk about what I did; it’s just not smart talking about it.
WW: Right.
SK: One of the things that I always believed in, I believed in taking care of my people. It’s like right now I meet you and I like your style and you walked outside and somebody brought harm to you—
WW: Mmm-hmm.
SK: —I would defend you.
WW: Okay.
SK: By all means necessary.
WW: Okay.
SK: I would definitely go hard.
WW: Go hard. Hmmm.
SK: So, if that makes me a bad person, that makes me a bad person. I’m not the type of guy to prey on the weak, though.
WW: I got you.
SK: I have never been a type of guy that was a bully who picked on the little kids after school. I always picked on the big kids.
WW: Okay.
SK: So, you know, [there’s] a difference.
WW: Yeah, there is.
SK: It’s a big difference. And all the people who [are] telling on you supposed to be so-called, wannabe thugs, but they street punks. If you really look at it, in your music, in your interviews, you speak of yourself one way, but when it’s dealing with me you [are] totally opposite because you [are] telling the police on me.
WW: Right.
SK: You’re putting statements against me.
WW: Right, right. Okay.
SK: You acting like hos.
WW: Okay, okay.
SK: I don’t understand that part.
WW: Okay.
SK: You know, that’s the part that’s really, I wouldn’t saybothering me, it’s just a big disappointment. You know, if we gonna do it, let’s do it. If you come swing on me, I’m definitely gonna swing on you.
WW: Okay.
SK: And we gonna deal with it like that. But after I put my foot in your ass, don’t turn around and then wanna sue me.
The dark side of Suge Knight is not just hearsay or braggadocio on his part. His dark side is well chronicled.
In 1994, Suge was convicted of beating two musicians with a telephone at his Death Row studios. The next year trouble followed him to a party that he attended, where a man was beaten to death. No one was arrested. That same year at a Christmas party in Beverly Hills, Suge was accused of forcing a noted label executive—alleged to have been Andre Harrell—to drink urine from a champagne glass after Harrell allegedly refused to give up the address of Janice Combs, the mother of Puffy Combs. Suge says this didn’t happen, and no one was arrested.
In September of 1996, Suge was driving a car near the Las Vegas strip. In the passenger seat was Suge’s number-one artist, Tupac Shakur. There was a drive-by shooting. Tupac was murdered. His killer and the circumstances surrounding his death are still a mystery. Suge went to jail that year for violating parole stemming from his 1994 assault conviction. He was caught on tape along with Tupac, hours before the fatal drive-by shooting, participating in a beat-down of a member of the Crips gang in a Vegas casino. He was sentenced to nine years in prison.
While Suge was in jail, Christopher “The Notorious B.I.G.,” aka “Biggie” Wallace, was gunned down in Los Angeles. Suge was investigated for this murder. A car that was linked to the murder was found at Suge’s house. The investigation was dropped due to lack of evidence.
WW: Okay. So how do you feel about people still looking at you as the cause of Biggie’s death? Tupac’s death? You know?
SK: I look at it like real simple. For somebody to say I had anything to do with both of those deaths is absolutely crazy. We got to weed out a lot of jealousy, though. Because, I’m my own man. I do my own thing. I don’t bother nobody, but I don’t run from no shit.
WW: Right.
SK: And the thing is, as far as Pac, everybody knew how I felt about Pac. Everybody knew how Pac felt about me.
WW: Mmm-hmm.
SK: And the
thing is that in the Pac situation, I actually pulled him down.
WW: Mmm-hmm.
SK: And got, I got hit in the head.
WW: Where were you hit in the head?
SK: Uhhh?
WW: Like do you still have a scar or anything like that?
SK: You can feel it. A big lump. That’s the injury to my skull.
WW: Yeah.
SK: And one of the things about it: When they found it . . . first I was supposed to been in a bad situation. When they found out it was me they tried to say it like it was a fragment or graze or whatever.
WW: Ohh.
SK: Because, you know, one thing about black people, if you’re in power they wanna destroy you, slander your name, orsay a whole bunch of stuff. So, anybody, ANYBODY, anybody with any sense, anybody that really knew Pac, knew I cared about Pac more than anybody—even his own people.
WW: How is your relationship with Afeni Shakur, and then we’ll talk about Voletta Wallace.
SK: Right. My relationship with Afeni is, I look at it like she’s a mother. I know I heard a lot of things when I was in prison. We had a conversation, and the deal that Pac had with Interscope was a deal where he would never in life make money.
WW: Yeah.
SK: The deal he did with me was an incredible, incredible, incredible deal. So therefore, even when I was in prison and I heard they were trying to say, well he had [a] bad deal with Death Row, he had this great deal with Interscope. I said okay, well, if that was the case let’s chuck the Death Row contract and go with the Interscope contract.
WW: Okay.
SK: ’Cause on the Interscope contract he was getting like, I don’t know point for point, but maybe after it’s all said and done, three points, seven points, like that.
WW: Okay.
SK: Death Row, he was getting up to twenty points. Big difference.
WW: So you’re saying that your relationship then with Afeni Shakur is respectable and—
SK: Right, right. And then Interscope was charging them a hundred percent on videos. If he spent a million dollars on a video, he’ll pay a million dollars. With me, if he spent a million dollars, I pay half, he pay half.
The Wendy Williams Experience Page 4
