..:: Presented By ZarFilm Website ::.. ‏.:: www.bolboljan.net ::.
Fans of the Notorious B.I.G.
said a final goodbye to the rap star.
There were tears at the memorial service,
but when the funeral procession made its way
to the streets of Brooklyn, there were angry confrontations,
even an explosion of pepper spray.
It was a solemn homecoming tribute
for the fallen rap icon,
but it turned into pockets of violent scuffling
as police confronted rowdy fans.
Crowds began surging against police barricades.
Fans danced on top of cars.
People were losing their cool.
Suddenly, things were out of control.
BASED ON A TRUE STORY
Police moved in, asking the fans to disperse.
But some of them resisted.
- 18 MARCH, 1997 NORTH HOLLYWOOD, CALIFORNIA - Authorities used pepper spray to break up the gathering.
Before it was over, 10 people were arrested,
most for disorderly conduct.
People in Brooklyn say cops used excessive force
in handling the crowds.
There were accusations of brutality and insensitivity.
Again, police officials say officers...
♪ It's gonna take a miracle they say
♪ For me to walk again and talk again
♪ But anyway I get fronted some keys
♪ To get back on my feet
♪ And everything that nigga said came to reality
♪ Livin' like a baller, Loc I'm havin' money
♪ And blowin' hella chronic smoke
♪ I bought my momma a Benz, my boo-boo a Jag
♪ And now I'm rollin' in a nine-trizzay El Do-Rad
♪ Just remember who changed your mind
♪ 'Cause when you start set-trippin', that ass is mine
♪ Indeed, agreed Proceed to smoke weed
- ♪ Never have a want... ♪ - Can I help you?
Roll your fuckin' window up, white boy, before...
- ..knock your fuckin' ass out. - Yeah, right.
- Just one of them. - I'm one of what?
I'm one of what? Yo, pull the fuck over right now!
Huh? You don't know who the fuck you fuckin' with!
Fuck.
Jesus fuckin' Christ.
Motherf...
Fuckin' inbred! You wanna look, talk shit and run?
Police! Drop the gun!
- Drop it now! - I'm a cop!
I'm a fuckin' cop!
I got called in to a road-rage incident
eight miles north-east
from where Christopher Wallace, The Notorious B.I.G.,
had been gunned down nine days prior.
I didn't connect the two at first,
but when I did, I lost everything that mattered.
That day, on that street corner,
the first door to the labyrinth opened.
♪ Now you do what they told ya
- CITY OF LIES The Hour of Truth - ♪ Now you do what they told ya
♪ Now you do what they told ya
♪ Now you do what they told ya... ♪
In 1991, four white cops beat Rodney King
and were found not guilty.
And the City of Los Angeles revolted.
♪ ..justified for wearing the badge
♪ They're the chosen whites Come on... ♪
But what we need are honest,
non-biased police officers.
That's what I think! But we gonna keep it real like this.
Tupac Shakur gave a poetic voice
to this frustrated, rebellious generation.
And then it was cashed in on
by L.A.-based rap label Death Row Records,
helmed by the nefarious Suge Knight.
On the East Coast, a rapper with a smooth flow
that went by Notorious B.I.G. rose to prominence,
building a brand for the New York label Bad Boy Records.
♪ It was all a dream
♪ I used to read 'Word Up!' magazine
♪ Salt-N-Pepa and Heavy D up in the limousine... ♪
Tupac and I, we're two individual people.
Even though we was going through our drama,
I would never wish death on nobody.
And the East Coast/ West Coast thing
is something the journalists are making up
just to get paid off it, so it can drag out.
In Vegas, shots were fired.
Tupac was hit four times.
Six months later, police are investigating
the shooting death of rapper Biggie Smalls.
He was gunned down...
Who killed rapper Notorious B.I.G.?
And were LAPD officers involved?
- LOS ANGELES 18 YEARS LATER - The mystery of his murder
has gone unsolved for 18 years now.
Neither Notorious B.I.G.'s
or Tupac's murder has been solved.
Russell Poole headed up
the investigation into Biggie's murder in 1997.
I'm Detective Russell Poole.
Someone has lost a family member
and they deserve to, um... to have the answers.
I'm his mother. My son was shot.
I would like to know why.
Ms Wallace would like to know why.
I gotta be the one to contain my power
to, like, you know, "They gotta be dead."
I kinda realised how powerful Tupac and I was,
you know what I'm saying?
Because... we two individual people,
we waged a coastal beef, you know what I'm saying?
One man against one man
made a whole West Coast hate a whole East Coast
and vice versa, you know what I'm saying?
And that really bugged me out.
Like, yo, dude don't like me,
so this whole coast don't like me.
You know what I'm saying?
I knew it wasn't true.
Or at least what I knew I was getting blamed for wasn't true.
I can't speak for nothing else. You know, I wasn't there.
But I know what he was blaming me for wasn't true.
But what he thought was, like, whoa.
You know what I'm saying? Kinda took me by...
I mean, even though we was going through our drama,
I would never wish death on nobody...
Can I help you?
Whoa.
Door was open. I knocked.
I'm Darius Jackson.
I wanted to talk to you
about the murder of Notorious B.I.G.
- I'm a journalist. - I know.
Of course you're a journalist.
Well, I've already stated
that I would rather not speak to any of you.
So, thank you very much for your time. Get out.
18 years ago I used an interview with you
in a... in a news special that I was doing called...
..'East Versus West'.
Yeah.
It was terrible. It was awful.
Your theory was completely wrong.
Yeah, well, the Peabodies would disagree with you on that.
- The Peabodies? - Yes.
So, you equate life and death with a fuckin' award show?
- How about I pay you? - You'll what?
- Pay you. - You'll pay me?
Get out of my sight.
What I should do is knock your fuckin' teeth out.
Then I have to call the police, don't I, Detective?
Oh, and do you trust that they would come here
and do their job for you?
I did my job, didn't I? I found you.
White guy shoots and kills a black guy. Who's at fault?
- Are you threatening me? - No.
No. It's a riddle.
White guy shoots and kills a black guy.
Who's at fault?
I don't know.
The answer is, "Ask more questions."
What does this have to do with Biggie?
That's what I thought.
Shoo.
Next time knock, please.
I did knock.
What the fuck?
- AWN HEADQUARTERS, DOWNTOWN LOS ANGELES I have two journalistic creeds.
One - emotions are the enemy of facts.
Right?
- Hey, Jack. - Hey. Good morning.
Remember, we are a news organisation.
Which brings us to my second journalistic creed.
There is no bias in facts.
It is possible you will find success while you are young,
which would be unlucky because you wouldn't learn patience.
How goes the Biggie retrospective?
I met Russell Poole today.
Still on the Wallace case.
As a citizen, he's got a war room
with... with all kinds of evidence
tacked up on the walls.
Sad.
Yeah, well, that can happen when a person
rests their entire reputation on a single case.
You made a hell of a name for yourself,
but you fucked up.
Biggie did not pay for the hit on Tupac.
You know, so get it right this time.
Just don't waste your time with Russell Poole, right?
'Cause his 'X-Files' theories have been debunked.
Danny, I'll get this.
Drink up.
If you feel your life's in danger,
why are you talking to us?
'Cause, man, I mean, you know, if Biggie was my son...
I mean, if I get got and somebody could help my mom,
I would hope they would do the right thing.
So that's what I'm trying to do now.
Don't shoot.
Hey. There he is.
- You expecting me? - Oh, absolutely.
You know, you're a pretty predictable kind of guy.
I can't trust nobody. I'm running for my life.
- Who's that on the TV? - Doesn't matter.
How do you make sense of all of this... this...
..unorganised bullshit?
That's my son's. He plays shortstop for the Fins.
Got any more asinine questions you'd like to ask?
Detective Poole, I know you care about this case.
But you know the LAPD refuted both our theories, right?
Doesn't mean mine wasn't right.
- So, who shot Biggie Smalls? - Oh, no, no, no.
- No, you put that away. - Who shot Biggie Smalls?
Put that away.
- Whoa, whoa. Slow down. - Put it away.
You ask permission.
Wrong with you?
You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?
Perfect goddamn stranger walks into my house
like it's nothing.
I let you walk in today.
And you try and point that camera at me.
You don't even ask? You have no respect?
I don't want to be here any more than you want me to be here.
You tell me who shot Biggie and I'll leave.
Let's get this straight - when you speak to me about him,
you refer to him as Christopher or Mr Wallace.
You owe him that.
Detective Poole,
I'm the only one who's crawling up the asshole of L.A.
to talk to you.
And I promise you, I'm the last one
who's ever gonna ask you the question.
Who shot Christopher Wallace?
- I don't know. - You don't know?
You spent the last 20 years in this dank apartment.
What, on a... on a "I don't know"?
I had a theory.
And my investigation was ripped out from underneath me.
See all this stuff you called, er...
..I believe it was "unorganised bullshit"?
Dots.
That's 20-plus years of dots.
I'm very, very good at connecting dots.
- 9 MARCH, 1997 ♪ I'm giving it up for the city... ♪
- AFTER PARTY OF THE SOUL TRAIN AWARDS PETERSEN AUTOMOTIVE MUSEUM - ♪ City of L.A. ♪
The clock of life is wound but once.
No man has the power to tell when the hand may stop.
Yo, Biggie!
Biggie! Biggie!
This is the only time you own.
Live.
Love.
Toil with the will.
Put no trust in tomorrow.
Or the hand may bend,
be still.
- Hey, yo, Biggie! Yo, Biggie! - No, no, no.
Gotta back up. Gotta back up.
Go.
You can't hide from the truth.
That truth needs to expose.
This damn man plotting shit, I know.
He's threatening people.
This is just basically an autobiography of myself.
Hey...
Excuse me, ladies. No disrespect.
Is it cool if I get his autograph?
Yo, I'm your hugest fan, Big.
- You mind signing this for me? - No problem.
Hey, I stay up with 'Juicy' and 'Big Poppa'.
That's my joints right there, yo.
I make music for everyone. Company.
Thank you, man. For real.
There is not a day that goes by
that I don't miss my son.
911, emergency. What are you reporting?
Yeah, we need an ambulance
on Fifth after Wilshire, please, in Los Angeles.
We got a man shot. We have a... shot.
OK, hold on, I'll...
Right on the corner of Wilshire and Fifth Ave.
We need it on Wilshire and Fifth Avenue.
24-year-old rap artist Notorious B.I.G.,
Christopher Wallace, was shot early Sunday morning
and later died of gunshot wounds...
How long until you got to the scene of the shooting?
A month.
- One month. - Hmm.
Oh, no, no, no. You don't cheat, no.
Think.
Don't write, think.
Why did it take you a month to get on the case?
'Cause I was on a different case.
White cop shot a black cop.
Drop it now!
- I'm a fuckin' cop. - Shit. This guy's got a badge.
He drew down on me!
Let's go. Get in there now.
We're here, Frank. We got you, man.
Report a man down.
Gun! We got a gun!
Get in there and help. Get in there.
You see it?
Fuckin' drew down on me.
- You heard that on the two-way? - I did. We're good.
Hey, boss, look at this.
Drew down on me at the fuckin' light over there.
I was just sittin' there. Fuckin' drew down on me.
Listen, Frank. We checked his pockets, man.
This guy's a cop.
White guy shoots and kills a black guy.
- Who's at fault? - Who was the aggressor?
Doesn't matter. Ghost of Rodney King still haunted the city.
So there was, like... there was only one way this was gonna end.
And I was the only idiot to think otherwise.
In 1997, everybody thought the LAPD
was filled with only one thing - racist cops.
But it wasn't. It also had politicians.
Thank you.
Got yourself a genuine cluster of fuck, Russ.
Two LAPD went Wild West in daylight.
Shots were fired at the intersection.
- Witnesses? - Got too goddamn many of them.
Our shooter is, uh, undercover detective Frank Lyga.
Claims self-defence.
The deceased is Officer Kevin Gaines.
Where's Officer Lyga now?
They're holding him across the street for you
in that burger fuckin' joint.
Cross the 'T's and dot the 'I's.
Yeah, yeah.
The brass will have our asses
if any part of this comes back murky, OK?
- Yes, sir. - Alright, 'bye.
Excuse me.
Who's detective supervisor?
I'm the detective supervisor.
- How do you do? Russell Poole. - Russell. Nice to meet you.
Can you bring Detective Lyga to me, please?
OK. Yeah, you got it.
Hey, Gary?
Gary?
- Gary! - Yeah.
Look. You've got a surveillance camera there.
Got another one over there.
Get photographs of those for me.
- Julie! - Right here.
Could you see if you can recover any casings
from the intersection there?
1-King-51 to Control.
King-51, go ahead.
I need a DMV on a green Mitsubishi Montero.
Licence number is 2-Adam-Boy
Mary-5-4-3.
- Lyga? - Yeah.
Detective Russell Poole.
Did you identify yourself as an officer?
Think I'm dropping three years undercover
for some bullshit road rage?
He identified himself, throwing up his set.
Flashing Blood 'B's at me,
saying he's gonna fuckin' cap my ass
in the middle of the fuckin' intersection.
Look, I drove away. Ask my crew.
He chased me, man.
He caught me, raised up, and I shot in fuckin' defence.
That motherfucker is not LAPD.
He is a straight-up fuckin' banger, I shit you not.
King 51, we have your DMV info.
The vehicle belongs to a business in Tarzana.
Advise?
Officer Gaines's Montero is registered to Death Row Records.
Repeat, please?
Officer Gaines's Montero is registered to Death Row Records.
And this is nine days
after the Christopher Wallace murder.
And not one arrest.
Not one.
And everyone knew who the prime suspect was.
♪ With so much drama in the L-B-C
♪ It's kind of hard bein' Snoop D-O-double-G
♪ But I somehow, some way
♪ Keep comin' up with funky-ass shit... ♪
Suge Knight was the head of Death Row Records.
And Suge Knight was a gang member.
The Blood. Mob Piru Blood.
Death Row was a legitimate business,
but its CEO played by street rules.
♪ Ain't leavin' till 6 in the morning
♪ So what you wanna do? ♪
- MARCH 1997 DEATH ROW RECORDS, TARZANA ♪ Pastor, verse 1
♪ In the black SS, that '96
♪ With that Teflon vest ready to hit
♪ A nigga up for the work... ♪
Where he at? Come on, baby.
I want him to see these kids.
♪ Put some bullets in my clip, so my nine tight... ♪
Where he at? Huh?
What you lookin' at? Huh?
Bring your bitch ass out here, Suge!
I know you did it!
Where you at, Suge? Who gonna help me take care of these kids?
Coward-ass motherfucker!
You hiding in there like a little bitch!
You gonna take care of these kids? Pay my bills?
You wanna act like animal,
I treat you like animal.
Wanna act like dog, I treat you like dog.
Understand me? Understand me?
Sir, sir, please.
What batty boy bumbaclart think he gonna roll up here?
OK, OK. I'm a police officer.
I don't want any trouble. There are children present.
- White boy! - I don't...
- I just... - Roll up.
- They killed him. - Thank you. 'Bye.
The police are here now.
They killed my husband. They killed him.
Officer Kevin Gaines. Cop killers.
What makes you say that they killed your husband?
Kevin used to do security for that murdering-ass nigga.
He probably saw something he shouldn't have seen.
And they killed him.
The car was riddled with bullets,
leaving him so badly wounded that he was pronounced dead
at the nearby Cedars-Sinai hospital.
A very tragic event
that has similarities to another shooting,
but there were a lot of people that were in the area
and we're hopeful that someone will come forward
and give us information so that we can, er, solve this case.
- There you go. - Thank you very much.
Appreciate it.
You know other cops have come around asking for this?
Thank you for hanging onto it.
What, Poole, huh?
What the fuck's so important
I gotta come out here in a fuckin' monsoon?
I didn't want to discuss this in the station.
Why are other officers trying to acquire this tape?
This is my investigation.
Come on, Poole, get ready for every black cop in L.A.
to come looking over your shoulder, huh?
Bad fuckin' time for optics.
By the way, I met Gaines's wife last night
under rather unpleasant circumstances.
She pulled up in a $200,000 Mercedes,
said he was working for Death Row.
Are you kidding me?
Four white cops beat Rodney King.
Look at the big picture.
Gaines was a violent hothead.
A lot of them are.
A lot of who are?
The jungle bunnies.
Huh?
Gaines buried himself.
There's no need for us to dig for more dirt.
What's the word on the Wallace case?
The word is it's not your case.
You're South Bureau, and that's Robbery-Homicide's case.
Focus on your own.
Figured white detective
crazy enough to roll up on Death Row
might wanna know something.
I have a weapon.
I'm Special Agent Terrence Watts.
FBI.
FBI infiltrated Death Row about a year ago.
I've barely made it to the outer rim,
so I just mainly hear rumours.
But I can, 100%, confirm this.
Suge Knight has LAPD in his inner circle.
I'm talking straight-up mobster shit.
- Officer Gaines was one of them? - He advised on protocol.
Monitoring police scanners when they rode dirty.
Coordinating how to use walkie-talkies.
Listen, this is something
that I would not risk my cover for just yet.
But they're saying, "We got Biggie."
And Officer Gaines was an accessory.
- APRIL 1997 LOS ANGELES POLICE DEPARTMENT - 6TH FLOOR
I got a problem.
Black guy in a green jeep on my ass.
I need you guys. Think he's got a gun.
Hey, you wanna look, talk shit and run?
Look at this, motherfucker.
I just shot somebody. I need help.
After you shot Officer Gaines, what went through your mind?
What went through my mind?
"Good."
Obviously, you've never had the service end of a handgun
pointed at your face.
Excuse me?
I might remind you, you're speaking to a superior officer.
Not in this room, I'm not.
I know my rights.
In here I face civilian consequences
and I'm afforded civilian rights.
I got a two-and-a-half and a one-year-old at home.
A man raised a gun to kill me and I was faster.
For that, I say, "Good"...
..sir.
Detective Poole, do you have any additional evidence
to refute or strengthen Detective Lyga's assertion
that Officer Gaines acted in a matter unbecoming?
Nothing as yet that I can prove, Lieutenant.
Come here.
What the fuck was that, hmm?
I happen to strongly believe that Gaines was into much more.
I don't give a fuckin' shit, Columbo.
We're not Internal Affairs.
What were you gonna do? Arrest him? He's fuckin' dead!
The facts point to something more here.
Oh, drop the boy-scout bullshit, Russ!
I asked you not to complicate a simple fuckin' case.
Lyga's cleared.
He's probably on his way home
to have a fuckin' Pabst Blue Ribbon.
You're fucked off
because you didn't get a soapbox to wax lyrical about the shield.
I don't ever want to hear about this fuckin' case again.
You hear me, Detective?
So, what's it gonna take?
So you scammed your way up?
No, no. I don't scam.
I do. And that's how you do it, exactly what you did.
Let me tell you something.
Every detective in America wants on Robbery-Homicide,
and I was certainly no different.
I mean, that's the major leagues.
But, no, you don't scam your way in.
You get in by being the best at one thing.
Solving murders. That's...
- APRIL 1997 ROBBERY-HOMICIDE DIVISION
♪ It's the big come-up
♪ It's the big come-up... ♪
Hey.
Welcome to the Parker Center, home of Robbery-Homicide.
I'm Miller. Let's get you up to speed.
Russell Poole. Pleasure.
Hey, this is the new guy.
Just got promoted up from South Bureau.
Thanks.
So, I think if we... Yeah, hold on.
Hey, Chief.
That's right. Chief of Police.
Welcome to the big time, Poole.
- What's your handicap? - In what?
- In golf? - No, in life. Yes, in golf.
- I don't know. - Give me his file. Thank you.
"Russell Poole is a South End gangs expert
"with over 500 crime scenes under his belt."
Well, fuck me, I didn't know we promoted on merit anymore.
I'll just assume you know what you're doing.
- I do, sir. - No, no 'sir'.
Fred or Miller.
You're now a Robbery-Homicide detective.
We get the city's highest-profile cases,
but we don't act like Marines.
This is Homicide. This is Lefferts.
She's a pretty good detective.
And this is Snow.
Bit of a dummy, can't hit a softball either.
This is Bank Detail over here.
And through this door...
..you are now investigating
the murder of The Notorious B.I.G.
Don't feed into it.
If you feed into it, it's gonna end up escalating.
You know what I'm saying?
OK, according to initial police reports,
12:49am six shots are fired.
Los Angeles police are investigating
the shooting death of rapper Notorious B.I.G.
Bullet casings were found on the scene.
Geco 9mms. They're German manufacture.
Gecos.
Very rare.
Ballistics is checking for extractor marks
and we've got Fingerprints
looking for fingerprints on these.
Four shots hit Wallace.
Two bullets were recovered from the body.
The fourth was the kill shot,
striking the left lung, liver, heart.
The shooter's vehicle was a dark sedan.
Dark-coloured. Green, possibly black.
Some witnesses say it was a Caprice,
but most of the witnesses think
it was a Chevy Impala SS, a Super Sport.
This is a surveillance photo, the night of the murder.
Same car.
Two composite sketches,
one done in Los Angeles, the other done in New York
when the LAPD went there to interview the witnesses
about the Petersen on March 9.
And lastly, we got CIs.
We've got a county full of confidential informants
crawling out of the woodwork to give us information.
These rats are crawling out of the sewer, for God's sake.
So, in short, we've got hundreds of leads.
We've got hundreds and hundreds of leads.
So you don't tell your partner about Death Row
having Gaines and other cops on the payroll?
At that point, I didn't know Miller or how he would react.
So no. No, I didn't... I didn't tell him.
I knew if the Gaines tip was legit, it would come up again.
♪ Now I got a murder rap
♪ 'Cause a brother like me said, well
♪ Yo, Cold 187, they tryin' to give you a murder rap
♪ And you ain't even like that
♪ Yo, serve these niggas, 'cause they deserve to get dissed... ♪
Hurry up, man. Ain't got all day.
Maybe I ain't in a hurry to find out
what's waitin' for me on this hill.
- MAY 1997 BOYLE HEIGHTS Keep steppin'.
Miller? You fuckin' bitch!
You know, one day this shit's not gonna work.
I couldn't wait to congratulate you on your early release.
- And you're welcome, by the way. - Who the fuck is this?
Psycho Mike, this is Detective Poole.
He's new, so he's nobody, but he's delighted.
- How did Suge settle in prison? - I have no fuckin' idea.
Mike, we're boys, huh?
Hmm?
Boys get each other early release.
Mike, our boys get Suge put in a cell next to yours.
Come on, man.
I don't wanna fuck with this shit no more.
Look, I don't know shit.
Alright. OK.
Poole, we'll take him back to prison. Turn on the sirens.
I want his cellmates to know
he's been hanging out with his LAPD friends.
Oh, man. What the fuck, dude?
You Iowa motherfuckers don't know shit about the streets.
Dude, it's like I got a gun to my head
and you asking me to pull the motherfucking trigger.
Look, Mike. Mike, listen to me.
You talk to me.
I'll get your sister out in five.
Alright, man. Fuck it.
There ain't nothin' but Bloods in there, so Suge's fine.
But Suge don't wanna see Bad Boy rise up,
so Biggie gets got.
Suge says we hit him up,
Biggie takes it like a big, fat bitch.
- How was it coordinated? - Motherfucker, eat a dick!
Who's talkin' to you? Am I talkin' to him?
You think they fuckin' draw this shit up on chalkboards?
Man, this shit was straight stealth.
It was real quiet.
They hired a fuckin' contract hit.
Did Suge call it?
Suge don't pop off at the mouth like that.
He's at the top of the food chain. He's insulated.
They're saying this other nigga called it.
Some Mob Piru Blood named D-Mack.
- That's what they say. - D-Mack.
Alright.
What about the shooter?
Let me show you a composite sketch of a guy.
No. I don't need to see that.
He's clean-cut, faded hairdo. Medium-complected.
The motherfucker walks around in a suit and a bow tie,
like he's a Nation of Islam.
His name's Amir Muhammad.
- I got what I need. - No, you didn't.
I got the composite sketch. I got the name.
I'm done here.
Well, go ahead and run with it and see what happens.
What, is there something you ain't telling me or something?
There's a whole book of things I ain't telling you.
I'll say it was an unnamed source, alright?
Amir Muhammad's never even been arrested.
The guy's clean as a whistle.
You want a name?
I dunno. A couple of years.
It's gonna be the big story of the week, that's for sure.
I just scooped the name of Biggie's shooter.
Stanley Kirk Burrell.
- Can you hear me now? - Yeah.
Hey, can I call you right back?
Jack, I don't think you should touch this one, babe.
In fact, you can't touch this.
Because...
Holy fuck.
Your killer is...
..MC Hammer.
♪ U can't touch this... ♪
Jack...
♪ U can't touch this, Jack
♪ Jigga-jigga-jigga jigga-ding
♪ Jigga-jigga jing-jing-jing Can't touch this
- ♪ Mm-mm, U can't touch this. ♪ - I got it.
- Alright, I'm gonna stop. - Don't you got work to do?
Yeah, OK, OK. I'll stop if you stop.
♪ Hammer time! ♪ God, I love you, Jack.
I'll start it from the beginning.
- I got it, alright? I got it. - You don't got it yet.
Alright, Jack.
Jack, stop.
Jack, stop!
And here comes the pitch.
Awesome!
And batting next, that's shortstop number 29,
Russell Poole Jr!
Players on first and second.
Here it comes.
Oh, and that's a brilliant...
We got one run coming in.
We got a runner standing on third!
And that's Poole with the stand-up power.
How did your son play?
My son's not something I'm willing to discuss with you.
Is MC Hammer?
You got me, man. That was a good one.
Oh, that was great.
- One of my best. - I deserved it.
Yeah, you did. Yeah, you did.
Why is the Wallace case so important to you?
I'm obsessed with the truth, and that's my sickness.
I remember Bobby Kennedy said,
"Every society gets the kind of criminal it deserves."
"And every community gets the kind of law enforcement
"it insists on."
At one time I actually believed that.
When I joined the LAPD
we called each other "brother officer".
I wanted to serve on that force.
I wanted on this case because I had to know for myself...
..if there were, in fact, dirty cops involved.
Would you like me to start at the trial or the arrest?
Tell it however you wanna tell it.
Take me from the next dot.
Well, you follow every lead, really,
even if it's just to rule it out.
So I'll start with your theory -
the idea that Biggie had paid for the hit on Tupac.
We looked into it.
Went to Vegas to meet Varney.
He's the lead detective investigator
in the murder of Tupac Shakur.
At 4:03, in Las Vegas time,
Tupac Shakur passed away, y'all.
- MAY 1997 LAS VEGAS, NEVADA
Give me a moment of silence.
Alright, this is where the whole melee took place.
This guy getting the shit kicked out of him is Orlando Anderson.
Tupac is there somewhere.
And look at that guy doing the ground and pound.
Watch this. Boom! Boom!
And here's Tupac and Suge Knight making a hasty escape.
And Suge Knight just violated the terms of his parole,
which is why he's sitting in a federal penitentiary right now.
Two hours after this, Tupac Shakur is killed
in a drive-by off the Strip.
Are you guys hearing
that the shooters were hired by Christopher Wallace?
Look, the Biggie killed Tupac theory's bullshit.
This is the most famous rapper in the world.
He's 6'2", he's 400 pounds, he's got an entourage.
He's not gonna slip into
the most CCTVed city on earth unseen.
No, Wallace, he checked out.
Biggie didn't have Tupac killed?
No.
No, he didn't.
You know, sometimes the bad guys
will put the word out on the street
that somebody else committed their crime.
It's like a smokescreen.
That smoke spreads wide enough,
media grabs hold of it...
..wildfire.
So, what did you do when the lead went dead?
We asked more questions.
What was Suge Knight's demeanour
when you interviewed him after the shooting?
Um, elusive. He didn't help us.
Nobody did.
Truth be told, Vegas doesn't want us to close the Tupac case.
Move the cars, open the bars, keep the Strip open.
Leave those circus trials in L.A., you know what I mean?
How's that?
- You saw our murder book, right? - Yeah.
Every page is a sworn statement by an eyewitness
that contradicts another sworn statement by an eyewitness.
You take a suspect to trial,
his attorney will have a field day
and we'll be left holding our dicks.
Like those LAPD dicks after the OJ trial.
You know what?
- Go fuck yourself. - Come again?
You Crisco oil piece of shit, you fuckin' heard me.
Are you serious?
Those LAPD dicks got royally fucked
because they had the audacity
to pin the murder on a guilty man,
a man lucky enough to be charged after Rodney King,
so Cochran could just hint that they were racist.
Everybody heard the Furhman tape.
I'm talking about solid guys, lifetime fuckin' guys,
who had their retirement fuckin' ruined.
Why? Because they had the balls to do their fuckin' job!
And here you are, you gutless fuckin' wonder!
We'll talk about cops.
You will never in your career
do the cop work they did on a fuckin' lunch break.
One more thing.
Fuck Fuhrman. You remind me of him.
And fuck this fuckin' city.
Miserable piece of fuckin' shit.
You idolise guys ahead of you in the force.
Then you watch them get fucked
by the very system they propped up.
It's a game of inches. The point is to win.
So us, we stick together.
And we do everything we have to to win.
Hmm?
The FBI have infiltrated Death Row.
There are LAPD officers in its inner circle
and these officers are loyal to Suge Knight.
I believe that Officer Gaines may have been an accessory
to Biggie Smalls's murder.
OK, Poole, walk me through it.
12:30am, Wallace exits the Petersen
and gets in the last vehicle of a three-car convoy.
It's a Suburban. It's driven by Greg Young, aka G-Money.
Right.
In the first vehicle
is an off-duty Inglewood police officer,
Reginald Blaylock.
He pulls out, blocks the traffic on Fairfax, OK?
Now, Biggie's security, Eugene Deal,
walks to the garage exit,
where he comes face to face
with a man in a blue suit and a bow tie,
who Deal identifies as a member of the Fruit of Islam.
- The Nation of Islam's... - Security guards.
Yeah, exactly.
Deal shows the man that he's armed.
The man leaves.
Deal then notices, as do many other eyewitnesses,
a black sedan parked facing southbound on Fairfax.
- Correct? - Yeah.
And it's in front of a white vehicle,
the occupants of which shoot video of the incident, OK?
Deal then gets in the second car of the convoy.
Excuse me. Kenneth Story is driving.
Puffy is sitting
in the passenger seat.
Then they pull just past the kerb.
Biggie's SUV then pulls in behind.
OK?
On the sidewalk are approximately 15 people
who had attended the party at the Petersen.
DJ Quik, Kurupt and, er, what's that...
- Wait, Foxy Brown. - Foxy Brown, here.
Now, while Biggie's car idles at the exit of the garage,
he signs an autograph for a fan
and then he speaks to a woman who approaches the vehicle.
Now, 12:49am.
Puffy's car pulls out,
heads north on Fairfax.
Eugene Deal, Wallace's head of security...
Security.
..he advises Kenneth Story,
blow the light, for security reasons, OK?
Puffy's car goes through that yellow light
and turns left onto Wilshire.
But Biggie's car stops at the red light.
That lane, exactly.
The second he stops at this red light, a white SUV...
..pulls in parallel to Biggie's vehicle
and stops, blocking it.
Now, at this exact same second,
our shooter, in the black sedan...
- The Chevy Impala SS. - Yes.
He speeds north on Fairfax,
pulling parallel to the right side of Biggie's car...
..boxing him in...
..while the shooter fires six shots.
We checked the cellphone data.
It's garbage. We can't use any of it.
So, look, either the shooter got lucky
or, I don't know, he coordinated it in some other way.
If Officer Gaines or other cops advised,
they would know to avoid cells, obviously.
Yeah.
You know what they'd use, Miller?
Walkie-talkies.
Miller, he bought into your theory
that LAPD cops were involved?
Yeah. Yeah, he did.
For a night.
Today the family of slain police officer
Kevin Gaines have retained attorney Johnnie Cochran
and filed a wrongful death lawsuit
against the City of Los Angeles for $25 million.
Kevin Gaines, shot and killed on March 18...
They hired that miserable fuck Johnnie Cochran.
..a former assistant district attorney,
has successfully brought multiple class action suits
against the LAPD.
I'd never seen anything as charged as this,
but Miller had.
I saw clues that said our bad guys might be cops.
Miller only saw that we were white cops accusing black cops.
He saw us heading straight for a nationally televised trial
where Johnnie Cochran would ruin our careers
just like he did the OJ detectives.
You like that?
You had the choice between all these different cars
and this is the car you're gonna choose?
I just wish I could get under the hood,
you know, work on the engine.
It works! That's great.
Thank you.
Can I get the, er...
Am I allowed to get the carne asada?
I mean, it's, like, $4 more,
but I'm not gonna get a side order.
You know what, I would like to have the carne asada too.
Both of us. Thank you.
What do you think was going through Miller's mind?
Oh, er... protecting his pension.
Everybody in the LAPD knew that Gaines was dirty.
But as soon as Cochran was in his family's corner...
..all I know is that Miller flew to New York without me.
And he came back and he's saying
Biggie's entourage doesn't want to talk,
that my cop theory's a dead end.
They wanted to, sort of, stall the case a bit
until they found a more suitable, er, suspect.
Hoping for a gangbanger.
Yeah.
And that's what we got.
D-Mack.
- NOVEMBER 1997 SOUTH CENTRAL
I need access to my safety deposit box.
OK. You're just gonna have to fill out this.
Open the door or you'll be the first to fuckin' die, OK?
Slowly, slowly, slowly.
Everybody get the fuck on the ground now!
Don't fuckin' look at me, you hear me?!
Nobody fuckin' look at me!
Get the fuck away from there.
Gimme the fuckin' money right now! Let's go.
- Gimme the money now! - Don't make a move!
- Come on. Hurry up. - Go!
Everybody stay the fuck down
and everything's gonna be alright, alright?
Let's go. Fuckin' move.
Get in!
Go, go, go, go!
I'm Special Agent Dunton with the FBI.
Can I get a moment?
Thanks.
A man that hits a woman isn't even a man.
He's an animal.
Smart, though.
Small bank like yours usually has 50,000 on hand,
but today you had 15 times that much.
I need to speak to whoever made that order.
It was you.
The holidays are coming up. You know, that's what we do.
- We... we do that. - Sure. No, no, no, no, yeah.
But I'll tell you the truth.
Who I really need to speak to
is the person who had the keys to the vaults.
I got nothing to say.
You're gonna be very, very old
when you get out of prison, young lady.
What if I can talk to him?
What if... w-what if I can con... convince him
to give the money back, huh?
Then... then will I still be in trouble?
- Who? Who are we talking about? - My boyfriend.
Give me his name.
♪ Sellin' crack in the system
This is Los Angeles... Los Angeles.
♪ When I was young
♪ Let me tell you how it was where I come from
♪ When I was young
♪ Let me tell you how it was where I come from
This is Los Angeles.
♪ When I was young,
♪ Let me tell you how it was where I come from
♪ Run up, you get popped with the popgun
♪ I was sellin' rocks on 6-1 Next one... ♪
Please be advised there are some children
playing in the...
Go, go, go, go, go!
Put your hands up.
David Mack! Freeze!
Don't do it.
Put your gun on the ground.
I'm not gonna ask you again.
Put the gun on the ground.
Nice and slow. Nice and slow.
Very good.
Turn around.
Bedroom's clear!
Get the fuck off me, bitch-man, motherfucker.
You know the fuck I know, Blood? Hmm?
How's your coffee?
Black and strong.
- Like your nigga. - Mm-hm. Yes.
Yes, my nigga, Officer Mack.
Or should I call you D-Mack?
Look, we know that bank robbery
is not your only extracurricular activity.
We found some interesting items in your house.
Geco 9mm bullets.
That's rare.
A Death Row medallion.
Sweet Impala.
- What else you up to? - Come on.
What kind of "no havin' backbone" nigga is you, huh?
Well, I'm not wearing cuffs, for a start.
You went to the University of Oregon.
I know you're educated, Mack.
But if you want to keep talking this thug thing
'cause you think you're gonna reach into my inner nigga
and rattle my sense of manhood, you go right ahead.
OK, Special Agent.
So, where we start?
With Death Row.
I don't know.
If you don't talk to me,
if you don't tell me where the money is,
15 years.
15?
- Years? - Mm-hm.
Oh, fuck.
Come on, nigga.
Nigga, that ain't shit, Blood.
15 years?
Get the fuck outta here with that bullshit, nigga.
Fuck you think this is? I'm from the gutter, Blood.
See, that's Compton. You feel me?
- I'm Piru, nigga. - Mm-hm.
What the fuck you think 15 years gonna do to a nigga like me?
I know niggas doin' life.
And I put 'em there.
Give me 20.
D-Mack and Kevin Gaines.
Both connected to Death Row.
Both surely involved in Biggie's shooting.
And both untouchable.
Why?
- Because they're both LAPD. - Mm-hm.
We can't let you test Mack's Impala for forensics.
It'll take me an hour. One hour.
It's bad timing, alright?
I mean, my fuckin' hands are tied.
The future earning potential in Christopher Wallace
would be over a billion.
So, if we could prove a connection
between a cop and Biggie's murder,
then a lawsuit by the Wallace family
would not only break the LAPD, it would...
It would bankrupt the city.
♪ I put hoes in NY onto DKNY
- JANUARY 1998 COMPTON - ♪ All Philly hoes, dough and Moschino
♪ Every cutie wit' a booty bought a Coogi
♪ Now who's the real dookie? Meanin' who's really the shit?
♪ Them niggas ride dicks Frank White push the sticks
♪ On the Lexus, LX, four and a half
♪ Bulletproof glass tints if I want some ass
♪ Gon' blast squeeze first... ♪
- There you go. - Oh, delish.
How many times you guys want to hear the same story?
We've had some developments.
This was, like, last year and shit.
You know, a couple of brothers get shot
and nobody gives a fuck, do they?
But if Garth Brooks gets shot, y'all would declare martial law.
I just want to ask...
..do you recognise this man?
Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Hold up. Hold the fuck up.
Yo, Biggie! Hey, Biggie!
♪ Starin' at me
♪ Breath is heavy
♪ Headlight... ♪
This motherfucker was at Petersen that night. I saw him.
He was, er, security, you know?
Biggie's on the move. Biggie's on the move.
Yeah, he was the one on the walkie-talkie.
♪ Creeps inside... ♪
Belsher. It's Jackson.
I need you to find Sergeant Mike Reese of the LAPD.
Ask him to slip you the Christopher Wallace murder book.
You said murder book, as in uno,
not 40 boxes of 90 murder books.
Here.
I'm done. All yours.
Kennedy said that every society
gets the kind of criminal that it deserves.
Right.
But news, that's something that somebody wants to suppress.
Do you remember Kelly Jamerson?
Yeah. What about him?
You're gonna love this.
- 15 MARCH, 1995 MIRACLE MILE - ♪ Safe to drive... ♪
He was one of the Rollin 60's Crips
who attended a Death Row afterparty.
Well, he starts throwing up gang signs, right?
So Suge's guys decided to beat him down a little.
But they beat him to death.
This is the section on the Kelly Jamerson murder.
However...
..he's not in here.
They redacted the entire incident. He's not in here.
The security guards who stood by
and watched a man being murdered
were off-duty LAPD officers.
You redact the Jamerson incident,
then you redact the proof that the LAPD
has a history of its officers working for Death Row.
- Where you goin'? - Got to follow through.
You can't just leave. I just brought up 90 boxes.
Hey, give me some grace on this, alright?
Grace? Fuck does that mean?
He says, very indignantly, "I'm the Pope."
You're so full of shit, Edwards.
- Excuse me, gentlemen. - I'm not here to talk to you.
Commander...
..I wonder if you could answer some questions on the record.
Fasulo, this is Jackson.
Jackson, Fasulo.
I've seen the Wallace murder book.
Oh, Christ.
Why did you redact the past instances
of the LAPD's connection with Death Row Records?
Look, I can't comment on an open investigation, OK?
- It's an open investigation? - Yeah.
Wow.
You have any suspects?
Jackson, I'm not gonna repeat myself.
I cannot comment on an open investigation.
What's going on here?
Jackson's been spending a little bit of time with Poole.
- Russell. Russell. - Oh, Poole.
This is the... OK, alright.
You know, you are as much an embarrassment to Edwards
as Poole was to the LAPD.
Let me guess, Kevin Gaines drove David Mack's Impala
up the grassy knoll,
where they proceeded to both whack Kennedy.
Is that what you're going for here?
You find the unsolved murder of two young men funny?
No, not at all.
I find you thinking that you're spending time
with the man who's going to solve this,
that's what I find funny.
You want something off the record, put that thing away.
- Go on, put it away. - OK.
Turn it off, put it away and I'll tell you something.
Alright, this is off the record.
I bet you Poole hasn't mentioned Wardell Fouse.
He was a Mob Piru Blood
that Suge Knight paid to shoot Biggie.
Poole tell you that?
- I'll track him down. - And bring along a shovel.
Because he was killed in 2003.
And listen, Jackson, let me do you a solid here, OK?
Poole is certifiable.
He's a lunatic, alright?
And if he's giving you his Captain America routine,
and the Stars and the Stripes,
and his... his badge on his sleeve,
ask him about his suspension.
The guy's a disgrace.
He's a pathological liar.
I mean, the Wallace's family civil case
was based upon his theory and it was all tossed.
The man is a lonely shut-in.
And he needs a warm body like yourself to talk to.
So he'll say whatever you want to hear.
But reporting things that aren't true
is your specialty, right, Jackson?
And that's the end of story.
I don't want to talk about it anymore,
and we're about to have dinner, so maybe you could...
- Thanks for your time. - Alright.
Jesus, Mary and fuckin' Joseph!
This is your employee?
Is he medicated? Is he a drunk?
Why did you even let him sit down?
- Yeah, come in. - Tell me about Wardell Fouse.
Fouse?
Oh, you're buying into that bullshit now?
Street name was 'Poochie'.
He was the primary in the LAPD's current theory.
- Fuckin' knew this shit? - I'm a detective.
A detective says, "I don't know until I can prove it."
You've been talkin' about this dirty cop and that dirty cop.
Well, what about you, Russ?
Never a mention about the cop who got suspended.
No, let me tell you something.
You have no idea what the LAPD is capable of.
Stop! How can I trust a single word
that comes out of your fuckin' mouth?
You look at these walls.
I earned everything here. Letters of commendation.
And that's why your son doesn't talk to you.
Because you care more about that than him.
How fuckin' dare you?
♪ Oh
♪ To all the ladies in the place with style and grace
♪ Allow me to lace these lyrical douches in your bushes... ♪
♪ The back of the club, sippin' Moët is where you'll find me
♪ Back of the club, sippin' Moët... Moët... ♪
♪ Straight up, honey, really I'm askin'
♪ Most of these niggaz think
♪ They be mackin' but they be actin'
♪ Who they attractin' with that line
♪ "What's your name, what's your sign"? ♪
Roll down the window.
Licence and registration.
- What did I do? - Licence and registration.
This is bullshit.
Sir, are you recording me right now on that phone?
- Sir... - How does that feel to you?
- Turn off the phone. - I'm a journalist.
I got First Amendment rights and I ain't turnin' off shit.
Turn off the fuckin' phone, I said.
- Let's go. Out of the vehicle. - What the fuck, man?
I ain't gettin' out nowhere, man.
Get out of the vehicle now.
Nice and slow.
Out of the vehicle, now!
- Everybody! Everybody! - Turn around!
They fuckin' with me. I ain't done shit!
Turn around.
It's me.
I'm in the, er...
..L.A. Central.
Jack?
I hate to tell you this,
but Edwards took you off the Biggie retrospective.
- ..of facts. - I need a word.
You commissioned a 20-year retrospective
and I'm not on it?
The central claim has been discredited.
- According to who? - The LAPD.
Of course it was discredited by them.
They couldn't solve the case in the first goddamn place.
We are distancing ourselves from the story.
- Detective Miller? - Who wants to know?
March 1997, you were the, er...
..the lead detective on the Christopher Wallace case, right?
What are you? A lawyer? Or a cop?
- Journalist. - Even worse.
I had one foot in retirement. I don't remember much.
Too many damn suspects.
Too many damn leads.
Was Amir Muhammad one of them?
What the...
Amir Muhammad was a possible shooter, yeah.
But we never interviewed him.
Can I buy you a beer?
Everybody had a shooter. Everybody had a theory.
My partner asked onto the case at the time
because he had a theory.
Was he... was he a good detective?
Was he a good partner?
Russell Poole.
One of the best.
Younger guy, but from an older school than even I was from.
Worked an honest shift.
Er, lacked nuance.
Followed orders to the point of insubordination.
Yeah, well, if the cops can be bending the rules,
then where does that leave the rest of us?
Oh, Christ. That sounds like something he would say.
- You sure you haven't met him? - No.
You gotta be able to separate yourself
from the community that you serve,
and Poole wasn't cut from that cloth.
You know what became of him?
No idea. They split us up.
There was a cop. Dirty cop.
Er, fuck, I can't remember his name.
- Bank robber. - Hmm.
One theory was that his loyalty lied with Death Row
and he was involved in Biggie's murder,
so the brass put Poole in charge of an STF looking into that.
Huh?
They gave Poole a special task force to look into David Mack?
That's the fuck's name!
David fuckin' Mack. Yes.
Thanks for your time. Appreciate it.
Sure.
Hey, one more thing.
You know, something always struck me
about that fuck David Mack.
The whole time he was in prison, he only got one visitor.
Amir Muhammad.
No run.
Aha. Got a question for you.
Why does the LAPD give a substandard officer
his own special task force?
You don't get to come here.
It's a free country.
Then do me a favour - root for the other team.
Substandard? No, sir.
Are you?
Unfortunately.
Alright, everybody, listen up.
This task force is changing direction.
Russ, we got a live one. We need you to shift focus.
We're on a live one right now, sir.
Let me see you for a second.
Drop the Death Row pursuit.
We got cocaine in evidence, turns out to be Bisquick.
Same cop signed out every package.
Probably selling it in the street.
Looks like it's Frank Lyga.
Fuckin' shittin' me, man?
I'm on unpaid leave
and you think I'm going to Evidence Control
to sign my name to six pounds of coke I intend to steal?
Come on, bro!
Did you believe him?
Yeah.
Yeah, I did.
His incident with Gaines
drove a very strong racial wedge through the force.
There's your duffel.
Did you not want to see my ID or...?
I'm sure you ain't gonna rob the place.
Evidence Control was so lax,
Detective Lyga was the easiest target in the world
for anybody who wanted to frame him.
Detective!
You left your evidence bag.
I have to get back to Disneyland.
What, you...
I didn't know who to trust, so I went to the top.
Chief?
- Go away, Poole. - You'd like that, wouldn't you?
Sir, this department has bad elements.
Now, I can't tell you who killed Christopher Wallace
because I've not been allowed to do my job properly.
Every time I turn a corner, I'm not allowed to look.
Why? Because my suspects are cops.
We've all sworn the same oath
to uphold the law regardless of the circumstances.
I believe we owe that to Christopher Wallace,
to his mother and to his family.
Poole, you insubordinate shit.
I told you a hundred fuckin' times,
you're off the Wallace case.
Off the Wallace case.
I went to the District Attorney.
And, er...
..I filed a complaint against the LAPD.
You ever love something so much,
you know, you try too hard,
hold onto it to make it work,
to make it yours, to make it...
You know, it's just...
No.
It was a long time ago.
Long time ago.
Yeah, we need an ambulance
on Fifth after Wilshire, please, in Los Angeles.
We have a man shot. We have a... shot.
OK, hold on, I'll get...
Right on the corner of Wilshire and Fifth Avenue.
Death Row had three cops in its inner circle.
Right here is a list of every cop who partnered with Mack.
- You investigate all of them? - I didn't have to.
Because there was only one stupid enough
to blow $25,000 in Vegas with Mack
two days after the bank robbery.
Rafa Perez.
The department forced me to follow Lyga
for stealing cocaine.
Guess who was actually stealing it.
Rafael Perez?
Why do I know that name?
'Cause I made him famous.
2-Adam-34, respond to a domestic dispute
at 4365 Whittier Boulevard.
- A husband and wife fighting. - 10-4, Central.
This is Officer Perez. I've got some suspicious activity.
I'm at 1010 East Cesar E. Chavez Avenue. Stand by.
What the fuck? How about turning that shit off?
Relax, tiger, relax.
Wassup? You got my candy or what?
Yeah, I found another distributor.
Hey, that's good for you,
but you're not stiffing me on this, fool.
I'm not. I'm gonna get rid of you.
Shots fired! Shots fired! Officer fired upon!
All units be advised, Officer Perez fired with intent.
I repeat, Officer Perez is the assailant.
Send an ambulance to this location right away.
Stand by. We got 16-38 needs backup.
Officer Perez!
Hands in the air!
The suspect in the shooting is a police officer.
Turn around slowly to your left until I tell you to stop.
What are you gonna do?
You gonna shoot me?
Are you wearing your vest?
Nah, you're too pink, motherfucker!
Arggh!
- Get down! - Shit!
Chest on the ground.
- Just shot me, motherfucker! - Now!
Kick back your legs. Cross your legs.
Point your toes. Cross those legs, point your toes.
I want those hands out.
Hands out!
- Oh, shit. - Sir, I've called an ambulance.
It's on its way. You're gonna be fine.
- Arggh! - Mother... Motherfuck...
Mother... Arggh!
- Shit. - Don't move!
Or I'll blow your fuckin' head off!
You gonna kill a cop? Huh?
You're not an officer.
You are not a police officer.
What? You're my escort?
How's the knee?
What kind of cop leaves law enforcement
to work for a gangster?
Law enforcement?
Ain't you got eyes, man? There's no such thing as law.
There's never been one that can overcome man's nature.
There's incentive.
Men love two things - pussy and power.
And Suge, he has both and he gives them to men.
So he got the strongest thing there is, right?
Man's weakness.
And he knows something you don't.
Law enforcement is made up of cops.
And a cop ain't nothin'...
..but a man.
I'll take it from here, Detective.
Sir.
You wanna be a gangster, son?
We are a matchstick away from bloodstained streets every day.
But what stops it?
Uniform.
People believe in it.
But LAPD have put so many goddamn cracks in that belief
that people are starting to see
that the police can't even police their goddamn selves.
You will not be another crack in my force.
I believed in the uniform.
I believed in the oath we took
to protect and serve the people of Los Angeles.
I joined the LAPD Rampart Division in 1994.
As an officer, did you perpetrate illegal activities,
including robbery, drug dealings and murder?
Yes.
Were other LAPD officers involved?
Yes.
And I believe that every member of the department
shared those same convictions.
We did it all.
We were a criminal organisation within the LAPD.
We were a gang.
And what was the name of this gang?
I believed Perez was gonna confess his part
in the LAPD's corruption by saying just two words -
'Death Row'.
Rampart.
I was wrong.
Let's reconvene in one hour.
So you're saying Rampart,
the greatest scandal in LAPD history,
which implicated 70 cops of corruption,
was a diversion?
Mr Ovando, I... I want to apologise
for what I've done.
I'm sorry.
Yeah, it was bullshit, and it eclipsed everything,
especially the Christopher Wallace investigation.
Officer Gaines was linked to the Wallace murder
and to Death Row.
But I was told not to look.
Officer Perez and Officer Mack were linked to Death Row.
Once again, I was told not to look.
But I had an ace up my sleeve.
The Gaines family was suing Lyga and the department.
And I was the chief witness
for the defence of Detective Lyga.
Gaines was a member of the Rampart Division.
He was also an associate
of incarcerated officers David Mack and Rafa Perez.
It's my belief that these officers
are responsible for the planning, cover-up
and the execution of Christopher Wallace.
That's some very explosive stuff, Detective.
A murder like that only goes unsolved
if the police don't want to solve it.
I can't bring that out.
But remember, if Cochran gives you an opening,
when you're on the stand, you can go there.
We were ready for our day in court.
MAY 1999 COURT - EAST LOS ANGELES
The theory that LAPD cops helped orchestrate
the murder of Christopher Wallace
would become part of the public record.
But they never let it go to trial.
You cut a deal?! My own team cuts a deal?!
You're poppin'!
I wanted to go in there.
Because this is my life!
MUNICIPAL OFFICE - DETACHED SECTION 262
Jack, it's 5am. Clerk wants us out by 6:00.
What the fuck are we doin', man?
Now you've found something?
Eyewitnesses notice a black sedan...
Most of the witnesses think it was a Chevy Impala SS.
What are we looking at? I don't get it.
I do.
OK, great. Are we done?
Yeah.
We're talking about truth.
And I've seen so many untruths
among these so-called officials.
My mother taught me something about truth.
It's a poem.
She said, "Speak the truth and speak it ever.
"Because he who hides the wrong he did
"does the wrong thing still."
Hey, Jack.
Ms Wallace, this is, er, Jack.
- This is Ms Wallace. - Hello.
I know who you are, ma'am.
20 years ago, I... I made a false claim against your son.
And?
I was mistaken.
Well, it takes a big man to admit that he makes a mistake.
You're a very kind woman.
- Would you mind? - Please.
Jack, have a seat.
He's been very helpful.
- With the case? - Yes.
I... I didn't think that you guys would be on good terms.
- I mean... - And why is that?
Well, I mean, you know, your family's case
and... and using his theory to support it,
and then it being dismissed.
Oh, no, the case was not dismissed.
- It was a mistrial. - Huge difference.
A federal judge caught the LAPD hiding evidence
that linked Mack and Perez to Christopher's murder
and declared a mistrial.
Now, here's the kicker - the City of L.A.,
they reopened the investigation
because as long as it's an ongoing investigation...
..that evidence stays locked away in the dark.
So, we cannot sue LAPD
because they are investigating the case.
I might... I might have something here.
It's, um... it's a search warrant
for Mack's Impala.
They found it after you resigned.
You know, they pushed you out of the force,
saying that your theory has no merit,
and then they use your theory - his theory - to go forward.
Ms Wallace, this has...
..been an unbearably long and painful road for you.
I'm so sorry
that you've had to endure all this.
You have nothing to feel sorry about.
Because of you, I came this far.
- Hands behind your head! - You wonder why we push back.
That's what you call a guy
who's in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Our life is meaningless to you
because you have the right to kill us
based on your theory, your perception!
And why? Because I'm a young black male.
Present your wrists.
Don't resist. You hear that, motherfucker?
You hear that?
The sound of sirens used to mean
my brother officers were on their way to assist me.
Might have been the sweetest sound I ever heard in my life.
I was two weeks from my pension when I resigned.
I lost my family
for a case that I was unable to close.
And it's just not supposed to happen like that.
We're at the top of the ninth.
Come on, Russ!
A crafty lefty on the mound.
Let's see what we got. Here's the first pitch.
And they're playing third base.
He guns him out at first.
And we got two down.
Bases still loaded.
And there's a shot in deep left field.
It's going back, back, back.
Russell...
Pick up the phone, pick up the phone.
I was a beat cop when you were here.
Always looked up to you, Detective Poole.
Thank you.
Russ, if you're really going in, I'm gonna go in with you.
We'll go in together, alright?
Just call me back or text me.
We still all talk about you, sir.
And all the time here.
But I'm afraid I can't help you, sir.
But please don't misunderstand.
Sir, these warrants, they're... they're 20 years old.
Detective Poole?
Are you alright, sir?
Can I get you something?
Detective Poole!
Christ! Call an ambulance!
Detective Poole? Detective Poole?
Can you hear me?
Stay with me, sir.
- Stay with me, Russ. - Mr Poole, can you hear me?
- No. - We got no pulse.
- He's gonna crash. - Russ?
- Did anybody see him go down? - Russ?
- What happened to him? - All of a sudden.
He's crashing, guys. Come on.
Heart attack, I think.
Russell Poole?
I'm Jack, a friend of Russ's.
You listen to me. You don't have the right.
You don't have the right.
You know what I'm saying.
You close the case, get a promotion, the shiny object.
But then you start thinking that you are the shiny object.
Come on down from the cheap seats, look him in the eye.
Tell him...
.."I'm sorry."
Take some pretty good shots at each other, don't we?
I'm done.
I'm a hack, alright?
I'm a hack
who forgot how to even do the right thing.
So I know what the wrong thing is.
Stay on this case.
Make your boy think that that's all that you care about.
Then what was it all for?
What was it all for?
Front page, 'L.A. Times'.
That was one of the best pieces I've ever read.
I know. It was good, wasn't it?
I got to say, Jack, I'm proud of you.
We're working on a new nightly segment.
We're gonna need a recognisable face.
I can't work for a man
who's in bed with the very institutions
that we should hold accountable.
We have to do better.
Will you accept my resignation?
KEVIN GAINES' FAMILY OBTAINED $250,000
FROM THE AGREEMENT WITH LOS ANGELES POLICE DEPARTMENT.
DAVIC MACK'S SENTENCE WAS REDUCED TO 11 YEARS IN PRISON.
THE STOLEN $722,000 WAS NEVER RECOVERED.
RAFAEL PEREZ RECEIVED IMMUNITY FOR THE CRIMES HE COMMITTED.
THE MURDER CASES OF CHRISTOPHER WALLACE AND TUPAC SHAKUR REMAIN UNSOLVED.
MORE THAN 50% OF THE MURDER CASES PERTAINING TO AFRICAN-AMERICANS
REMAIN UNSOLVED.
IN 2015, RUSSELL POOLE FAINTED AND DIED IN THE LOS ANGELES SHERIFF DEPARTMENT.
HE WAS STILL WORKING ON THE MURDER CASE OF CHRISTOPHER WALLACE.
♪ Oh, I dream filthy
♪ My moms and pops mixed me with Jamaican rum and whiskey
♪ What a set-up, shoulda pushed 'em dead off
♪ Wipe the sweat off, 'cause in this world I'm dead off
♪ Squeeze lead off, Benz sped off
♪ That's not all, MCs have the gall
♪ To pray and pray for my downfall
♪ Pray and pray for my downfall
♪ I was high when they hit me, took a few cats with me
♪ Shit, I need the company
♪ Apologies in order to T'yanna my daughter
♪ If it was up to me you would be with me
♪ Sorta like Daddy dearest, my vision be the clearest
♪ Silencers so you can't hear it
♪ Competition still fear it
♪ Shit, don't ask me
♪ I went from ashy to nasty to classy
♪ And still... still... ♪
Pac is a strong dude, yo.
I know dudes. You know what I'm saying? He real strong.
So when, like, he got shot, I was just more like, "Again?"
You know what I'm saying?
He always getting shot or shot at.
He gonna pull through this one again,
make a few records about it,
and it's gonna be over, you know what I'm saying?
But when he died, I was just like, "Whoa."
I mean, even though we was going through our drama,
I would never wish death on nobody,
'cause there ain't no coming back from that.
Telegram Channel and Instagram Page .:: @bollbolljan_com ::.
♪ This goes out to you
♪ This goes out to you, and you, and you, uh
♪ Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns
♪ As I crush so-called willies, thugs and rapper-dons
♪ Get in that ass quick, fast like Ramadan
♪ It's that rap phenomenon Don Dada
♪ Fuck Poppa, you got to call me Francis M.H. White
♪ Intake light tokes, tote iron
♪ Was told in shootouts, stay low and keep firin'
♪ Keep extra clips for extra shit
♪ Who's next to flip on that cat with that grip on rap?
♪ The most shady, Frankie baby
♪ Ain't no telling where I may be
♪ May see me in DC
♪ At Howard Homecoming with my man Capone
♪ Dumbing, fucking something
♪ You should know my steelo
♪ Went from ten Gs for blow to 30 Gs a show
♪ To orgies with hoes I never seen before
♪ So, Jesus, get off the Notorious's penis
♪ Before I squeeze and bust
♪ If the beef between us we can settle it
♪ With the chrome and metal shit
♪ I make it hot like a kettle get
♪ You're delicate, you better get
♪ Who sent ya? You still pedal shit
♪ I got more rides than Great Adventure
♪ Kick in the door, waving the four-four
♪ All you heard was "Poppa, don't hit me no more"
♪ Kick in the door, waving the four-four
♪ All you heard was "Poppa, don't hit me no more"
♪ Kick in the door, waving the four-four
♪ All you heard was "Poppa, don't hit me no more"
♪ Kick in the door, waving the four-four
♪ All you heard was "Poppa, don't hit me no more"
♪ On ya mark, get set, when I spark, ya wet
♪ Look how dark it get when you're marked for death
♪ Should I start your breath or should I let you die
♪ In fear you start to cry, ask why
♪ Lyrically I'm worshipped, don't front the word sick
♪ You cursed it, but rehearsed it
♪ I drop unexpectedly like bird shit
♪ You herbs get stuck quickly for royalties and show money
♪ Don't forget the publishing, I punish 'em, I'm done with them
♪ Son, I'm surprised you run with them
♪ I think they got cum in them
♪ 'Cause they nothing but dicks
♪ Trying to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks
♪ Mad, I smoke hydro, rock diamonds, that's sick
♪ Got paid off my flow, rhyme with my own clique
♪ Take trips to Cairo, laying with your bitch
♪ I know you praying you was rich, fucking prick,
♪ When I see ya I'm-a kick in the door
♪ Waving the four-four
♪ All you heard was "Poppa, don't hit me no more"
♪ Kick in the door, waving the four-four
♪ All you heard was "Poppa, don't hit me no more"
♪ Kick in the door, waving the four-four
♪ All you heard was "Poppa, don't hit me no more"
♪ Kick in the door, waving the four-four
♪ All you heard was "Poppa, don't hit me no more"
♪ Kick in the door, waving the four-four
♪ All you heard was "Poppa, don't hit me no more." ♪
Telegram Channel and Instagram Page .:: @bollbolljan_com ::.