kid NBA.
April 16, 1990
Tupac's POV – The Funniest Thing I've Ever Read
I was sitting in my hotel room, flipping through the pages of gossip Magazine. The headline itself was enough to make me raise an eyebrow:
"The Chess Game: How Tupac Outsmarted N.W.A."
I had to laugh. Out loud.
Like, really? A chess game? Man, these people were giving me way too much credit.
I wasn't even halfway through the article when I shook my head and said, "Yo, this is crazy."
I read through their breakdown of how I supposedly planned every move in advance—like I was sitting in some dark room with a blueprint, mapping out how to dismantle N.W.A. step by step.
They had a whole strategy mapped out for me that I didn't even know I was playing.
I kept reading, and by the time I finished, I couldn't hold it in anymore. I laughed so hard I had to put the magazine down.
The way they analyzed it, you would've thought I was a damn military general plotting a takeover.
---
The Truth Behind It All
Let me set the record straight.
First off, that intro on Poetic Justice?
"Fuck Jerry Heller and fuck N.W.A."
They're over here acting like it was some genius bait to get N.W.A. to respond.
Nah, man.
I said that because I was pissed off. That's it.
Dr. Dre had punched me. I was angry. I felt betrayed by my brothers, and I let it out. That's all there was to it. No strategy. No trap. Just raw emotions.
---
The Pump It Up Interview? Man, That Wasn't Even Me!
Then, they started talking about the Pump It Up! interview like I orchestrated the whole thing.
Like I sat down with the producer and said, "Yeah, play both of our interviews back-to-back so we can stir the pot."
Come on, man.
That wasn't me. That was just TV producers doing what TV producers do—trying to sell ratings.
I didn't tell them to air that. I didn't tell them to make it look like a battle.
Hell, I probably wouldn't have even known about it until after it aired if people hadn't started talking about it.
But now they're over here acting like I planned it all along? Man, I can't.
---
Okay, The Mariah Carey Move… Maybe That Was On Purpose
I kept reading, and when they got to the part about me dropping Mariah Carey's album in the middle of the beef, I had to stop and think.
Alright. I'll admit it. That one? Yeah, that was a move.
I knew the beef was hot. I knew everyone was watching me.
So, I figured—why not use that attention for something bigger?
But even then, I didn't expect Mariah's album to blow up that crazy.
I thought, Alright, maybe the beef will help her album get more eyes on it.
I didn't expect her to sell millions in the first week. That was just the universe working in my favor.
But the way this article made it sound, like I was sitting in a boardroom going, "Yes, and after I release the Mariah Carey album, I will strike with my final move…"
Come on, man.
---
No Vaseline Dropped Because I Was Bored
Then, they got to No Vaseline.
They made it sound like I sat in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Like I was watching N.W.A. struggle and thought, Yes, now is the time to destroy them completely.
The truth?
Man, I was just in the studio.
I had that beat, I had some shit to say, and I said it.
I didn't overthink it. I didn't plan it months in advance. I just did it.
I was bored, they gave me ammo, and I fired back.
That was it.
But now, according to gossip Magazine, I'm out here playing 4D chess while everyone else is playing checkers.
---
People's Reactions Were Even Funnier
What made it even funnier was how people were reacting.
I called up my homie j rock.
"Yo, you read this shit?"
He started laughing as soon as I brought it up.
"Man, I saw it earlier. They really think you was plotting all that?"
"I know, right?" I said. "I'm over here thinking, 'Damn, I should take credit for this shit.'"
"You might as well," homie said. "Let 'em think you some kind of hip-hop mastermind."
I hung up and turned on the radio.
Even the DJs were talking about it.
"You gotta respect Tupac, man. The way he moves is just different."
"I'm telling you, he's playing a whole different game."
I couldn't even be mad.
At the end of the day, I did win the beef.
Even if I didn't plan it all out, everything did work in my favor.
Maybe I was just lucky.
Maybe I really was moving like a chess player without even realizing it.
Either way, the world believed I was a mastermind now.
And if that's what they wanted to believe?
I wasn't gonna stop 'em.
Because at the end of the day, what mattered wasn't whether I planned it.
What mattered was that I won.
Crompton, los Angeles
Tupac's POV.
While all this industry talk was going on, I was out in Compton, doing something real—something for the kids. I had already organized rap battles, dance competitions, and even a few community giveaways, but today? Today was about basketball.
Nothing serious—just a fun little tournament for kids between 7 and 12 years old. The prize? Ten bucks each and a bag full of snacks. Simple, but for a kid, that's like winning a championship.
The games had already been running for a while, but I wanted to do something special—a final match just for the little ones. So here we were, at a Compton street basketball court, the sun high in the sky, people gathered around, and me and my homies sitting beside the court as the judges. We had mics in hand, calling the plays like it was Game 7 of the NBA Finals.
The game kicked off, and man, I knew this was gonna be entertaining, but I wasn't ready for what was about to go down.
---
I grabbed the mic.
Tupac: "Alright, folks, welcome to the realest basketball game in Compton! We got the future legends of the NBA right here… or at least, the future legends of playing on a crate hoop in the backyard."
The crowd laughed. The kids were hyped, dribbling the ball like they were about to make history. The game started, and within seconds, it was clear—this wasn't basketball. This was war.
One kid, Lil' D, had some serious handles. He was dribbling up the court, moving fast—maybe too fast—until he tripped over his own feet and faceplanted right in front of the hoop. The ball rolled out of bounds.
Me: "Ohhh, and Lil' D just invented a new move—the self-tackle!"
J rock (my homie): "He broke his own ankles! Somebody get this kid a contract with the Lakers!"
The crowd erupted in laughter. Lil' D got up, dusted himself off, and acted like it never happened.
Then came the real chaos.
One of the kids, Marcus, was dribbling while his opponent, Jamal, was locked in on defense. Jamal managed to strip the ball away, and instead of taking it like a normal basketball player… Marcus forgot the rules entirely and just straight-up launched himself at Jamal with a flying kick.
I dropped the mic from laughing too hard.
Me: "Yo! This ain't Street Fighter!"
J rock : "Somebody tell this kid this ain't karate class!"
Marcus stood there, looking confused like he didn't even realize what he just did. Jamal was on the ground, holding his stomach, laughing so hard he couldn't even be mad.
Jamal: "Bruh, I thought we was playing basketball, not MMA!"
Marcus shrugged.
Marcus: "Man, I just reacted!"
The game went on, but now every time a kid lost the ball, they hesitated—probably wondering if they were about to get tackled, drop-kicked, or put in a headlock.
Another kid, Ray-Ray, went for a layup, but his foot hit a crack in the pavement, and instead of shooting, he launched the ball straight into the sky.
Me: "Ray-Ray with the full-court shot… to the clouds! Somebody call NASA, we just sent a ball to space!"
By the time the game ended, nobody even cared about the score. The whole street was laughing, kids were rolling on the ground from exhaustion, and even the old heads watching from the sidelines were shaking their heads, cracking up.
I stood up, clapping my hands.
Me: "Aight, man, give it up for these kids. They might not be NBA-ready, but they sure as hell put on a show!"
Everyone cheered. I walked over and handed each of the kids their prize—ten bucks and a bag full of snacks.
Me: "Y'all earned it, but next time? Less wrestling, more basketball!"
Lil' D grinned.
Lil' D: "No promises!"
The crowd laughed again, and I couldn't help but smile. Moments like these? This is why I do what I do.