What if he was here? The thought lingers, heavy with unresolved emotions and questions that haunt the legacy of one of hip-hop’s greatest artists, The Notorious B.I.G. The tragedy of his untimely death has plagued the industry for decades, yet recent revelations shed new light on the circumstances surrounding it. In grappling with the impact of his absence, I can’t help but think: maybe I would strangle him. Not Biggie himself, but those who took advantage of him—his associates who molded him, dressed him in flashy suits, and profited off his genius.

The narrative of Biggie’s life and death is multifaceted, shaped by the complex dynamics within Bad Boy Records and his tumultuous relationship with its founder, Sean “Diddy” Combs. Many speculate whether Diddy orchestrated events leading to Biggie’s demise, maintaining a tight grip on the artist’s career through manipulation and control. The rumors swirl around the idea that Diddy wielded private tapes to keep Biggie in check, a tactic that could easily be seen as a sinister method of exerting power over someone who was both a friend and a cash cow.

Biggie, with his mesmerizing lyrical prowess, became a victim of a system that sought to exploit his talent while restricting his autonomy. There’s a chilling notion that he was trying to escape Bad Boy Records, a label that promised stardom but was riddled with underlying treachery. Biggie’s mother, Veta Wallace, has recently spoken out, illuminating the painful betrayal she feels regarding her son’s legacy and the people who surrounded him. In her book, she reflects on how her son was lured into a false sense of loyalty and trust with a mere $25,000, a sum that seemed substantial at the time but was a pittance compared to the riches he ultimately generated.

The murky waters of Biggie’s relationships with those close to him raise unsettling questions. Was Diddy merely a manager, or was he a puppet master, manipulating the strings of Biggie’s career? Friends and insiders suggest that Biggie’s struggle to reclaim his music rights led to tension that ultimately contributed to his death. There are whispers of Diddy’s threats, suggesting that Biggie would “be dead before getting his publishing back.” Such statements, once dismissed as hyperbole, take on a haunting significance in light of Biggie’s violent end.

The night Biggie was killed in Los Angeles was supposed to be a celebration, yet an ominous cloud hung over it. Many, including those in Biggie’s circle, warned him against going to L.A., knowing the risks involved in the East-West feud that had already claimed the life of his friend Tupac Shakur months earlier. Yet, Diddy’s insistence that Biggie attend that fateful event raises eyebrows. Was it merely a professional obligation, or was there a more sinister motivation to keep Biggie in L.A., away from his escape routes?

As Veta Wallace articulates her deep-seated frustrations, she paints a picture of betrayal that permeates the industry. She feels an overwhelming urge to confront those who manipulated her son, asserting that she knows who is responsible for his death. This conviction resonates through her words; she believes the LAPD is aware of the culprits but has chosen to protect someone, a conspiracy she feels has obstructed justice for too long. The lack of closure is a wound that festers daily for her, and it is shared by Biggie’s wife, Faith Evans, who also believes that the truth is being shielded.

The specter of blackmail looms large in discussions about Diddy’s relationship with Biggie. Rumors of compromising tapes allegedly used to control Biggie raise questions about the ethics of their partnership. It’s suggested that these tapes were a means to keep him in line, deterring any thoughts of leaving Bad Boy. In a world where artists often feel cornered by the demands of their labels, Biggie’s struggle takes on an eerie resemblance to a modern-day tragedy, where the price of fame may include personal autonomy.

Jean Deal, a former bodyguard for Diddy, has voiced concerns that Biggie’s death was not a random act of violence but rather a calculated move. He recounts how the circumstances of that night felt premeditated, with shooters poised at the right moment. This perspective challenges the narrative of a simple drive-by shooting, suggesting that the forces at play were far more intricate and sinister.

In examining the legacy of Biggie, it becomes apparent that the story surrounding his life and death is not just one of talent and tragedy but also of manipulation and betrayal. His smile, often absent during his life, became emblematic of the joy he might have experienced had he escaped the grasp of those who sought to exploit him. If he were here today, perhaps he would still be sharing his unique artistry with the world, instead of being a cautionary tale of a life cut short by greed and betrayal.

Ultimately, we are left with the haunting question: What if he was here? What if the truth about his life, his struggles, and the forces that sought to control him were fully revealed? The answers remain elusive, clouded by the shadows of an industry that too often prioritizes profit over the well-being of its artists. As we remember Biggie, we must strive to uncover the truth behind his story, not only to honor his legacy but to ensure that future artists are protected from similar fates.