Hip-hop/Spirituality/Freethinking. Speaking for all underdogs!
Growing up in Miami-Carol City (What up Rick Ross & Flo-Rida! We went to the same high-school…years apart though), I knew Suge Knight! Well, not “THE” Suge Knight, but a cat that was as feared and revered as Suge Knight. Dexter Washington! Damn! I can’t lie. His name still summons fear in my heart. Dexter was that dude who was hard-body lak-a-mug! He was a high- school wrestler who worked in his daddy’s brick masonry company, lifting those heavy-ass bricks—gettin’ his cock-strongness on. But Dexter was no big dude—maybe 5’-9” 140lbs. on a good day. Oh, but he was nice with his hands!
I once saw Dexter kick a cat’s ass that was damn near twice his size! And he did it with a smile on his face! Dexter could strike fear in a brotha, because he rarely got angry when he commenced to kickin’ some ass. He had all the physical gifts—a real live ‘70’s Kimbo Slice (minus the Osama beard)—a brute beast, a fearless street fighter, a technical wrestler who could suplex the shyt out of a dude! I saw him sky a brotha on his head and knock a patch of hair out his afro! The only “L” on his record—James Gilbert—a 265lbs. fullback/defensive-end/all-city/all-state football player who was a grizzly-bear-of-a-man that kicked his ass for messing with his sister. (That’s what I heard)
I had two near run-ins with Dexter and his boys back in the day. Now mind you, I was 17 years old, 5’6”, 115 lbs. soaking wet. A real live "band geek." I wasn’t tryin’ to fight anybody!
So one night me and my girlfriend are walking through a vacant parking lot and out of nowhere a car pulls up full of dudes and parks. They get out—Dexter and four or five guys start to run in our direction! Oh shyt! They’re gonna kick my ass and rape my girlfriend! But they run right by us and cross the street where they pummel three white boys strolling along, minding their own business. What was funny is that right after the beat-down; an ambulance (that just happened to be passing) drove up ushered them away.
The second incident occurred one night after Tuesday night band rehearsal. Again, me and my chick are outside laughin’ and play-play wrestling when a bottle breaks the warm Miami night air and lands at our feet, shattering and cutting us around our ankles. Fuck! Now I’ve gotta confront a gang of Dexter’s thugs (as not to look like a wuss in front of my girl). Like, what was I really gonna say or do to fifteen cats drinking MD 20/20 & Night Train & Wild Irish Rose and looking for some ass to whip? But, my dumb-ass walked right on over there and had the nerve to ask who and why did they throw a bottle at us! After they finished laughin’ at my misplaced chivalry, they encircled me and this one dude (Wayne Pinson) put up his dukes. “Nigga! I’m gonna kick yo’ mothafuckin’ ass you lil bitch!” Perceptively, I seent that he was drunk as shyt. Homeboy started throwin’ long overhand right haymakers in my direction, as I ducked them. (Think George Forman Bolo punching) Quite a surreal experience. It was like slow-motion falling off a bike. I saw every punch long before he swung... and I was totally aware of his goons, who surrounded me, as they egged him on. I never threw a punch—just “floated like a butterfly” without “stinging like a bee.” After a moment of posin’ and duckin’ I was lookin’ for an out. I think I proved my point! (In my comic Rodney Dangerfield voice, "What 'point' I 'proved' I have no idea!")
A breach in their bullshyt cipher opened and I hit the gap like Ben Johnson on steroids! (I’m the first brotha to do a sub ten second 100 meters! Please believe dat! It’s just too bad that The Guinness Book of World Records were sleeping that night!) Those brothas chased me through the parking lot, into the school, down the hall, into the principal’s office, and over the counter where the principal and security got between us. It was only at this point that I became really afraid—after the “fight.” Lucky for me (that night) that Dexter was probably somewhere else kicking some bigger ass.
So yes! I grew up with a "Suge Knight!" Dexter Washington, his brothers and his goons are infamous in Miami-Carol City! A brotha would rather run through hell with gasoline drawhs on than cross Dexter “Suge” Washington! A true legendary street-fighter!
Like many heads, I was ecstatic and overcome with a sense of shameless voyeurism seeing Suge Knight stretched out on his back—on Queer Street—knocked the fuck out! Karma is a bitch! That picture of his unconscious body excised the demons of Dexter Washington and made me entertain the idea (after all these years!) that Dexter eventually got what was coming to him—the ultimate dish-ragging at the hands of a smaller gentleman! Suge Knight met his match!
Shout-out to the brotha that way-laid his ass!
(The little guy who knocked Suge Knight out)
I don’t care if it was a punch or a pipe! If eight dudes jump you I think you have the right to return with a carjack! That took big balls to get stomped out and then come back swinging! The average ‘hoodrat would’ve taken his beat-down and went home and licked his wounds. Marion “Suge” Knight has been a brute beast, a music industry bully—reveling in the fear and dread of his public persona! He is a man that likes to be feared—a 300+ lb. “Goliath” who was slain by “David” the Barbershop Man—a little fella who recreated the movie, "Friday" as Craig... a little dude who faced the archetypal ghetto Debo and knocked him the fuck out in real life!
(Suge Knight! You got knocked the fuck out!)
But really, when you think about it, Suge Knight ain’t really put no work in! I think his “affiliation” to Blood sets and his behemoth size carries the connotation of ass kicker. Hell! I think I’d run up on him with a baseball bat before I’d wanna go fisticuffs with some real hard-body rappers like Maino, Jim Jones, 50 Cent, Trick Trick, Young Buck or Spider-Loc. How bad is/was Suge Knight? Let’s see—he (and his goons) hung Vanilla Ice from a balcony—whack-ass shyt requiring very little thugsterism! Stomped out gang member Orlando Anderson on the floor of the MGM Grand Casino (again, with 10-15 goons with him). Erry'body tough in a crowd of homies! Tried to verbally bully little-man ex-MTV Real World cast member turned journalist Kevin Powell on B.E.T., calling him a bitch. Pathetic! Went down to Miami and took an “L” by another lil nigga who shot the shyt out his ass in the club! (Yeah baby! M-I-A all day! The Gunshine State!) His résumé’ is not thorough! His gangsterism is suspect and his hoe-card has been pulled!
(Suge Knight taking another "L" in Miami-shot!)
Suge Knight needed to be knocked the fuck out! Wham! That’s for killing Tupac! Smack! That’s for stealing your artists’ money! Crack! That’s for swiping Dr. Dre’s masters! Pow! That’s for inciting East Coast/West Coast beef back in the day! Crash! For all the shyt-talkin’, slick-walkin’ two-bit petty-ass beefs you keep up your sleeve—and lastly, take this backhand from me for mailing your Fendi shades back to you that you left with my daughter—didn’t even get a thank you note! Dirrrty Double pimp-strong backhand smack!!!