"One night, I went out to the Hollywood Athletic Club with some friends. As soon as we get inside, I see Treach from Naughty By Nature. We exchanged hugs and greetings and I introduced Treach to my friends."
"Somebody here wants to meet you," Treach said. "Who?" I asked.
"My boy Tupac wants to say what's up," Treach said, gesturing to a table behind him.
Before I go any farther, let me be absolutely clear on something. Many people have asked me why I wouldn't peel off in the opposite direction when I heard Tupac's name. And the answer is simple: There was no need. I didn't know anything about what label Pac was signed to, whom he was cool with, whom he had beef with.
"Almost immediately after we were introduced, a photographer who had been trolling the club for celebrities came up to us and asked us to pose."
After we exchanged pleasantries, Tupac began to compliment me. "I really like your music," he said. "I want to do a song with you."
I said, "You'd have to get clearance from my label to do that." "That's not a problem," he said. "It's not going to be cheap," I told him. "And, I need my money up front."
"How much?" I replied, "It's going to be twenty-five thousand dollars." "No problem," he said.
Two days later I spoke to Big. I told him, "I met Pac out here, he wants me to do a song with him." "Oh word?" Big said. "You gonna do it?" "If the money comes through, yeah, I'll do it."
"The next night was the party for the release of the "Waiting To Exhale," soundtrack. I took a limo to the party with my friend Nicci, a singer in the group Brownstone. A soon as we pulled up, my cell phone rung. "What's up Faith. Where you at?" It was Tupac. I told him I was at the Waiting To Exhale party. He said, "I'm here, too!"
"I looked out the car window, and there he was. He made a bee line for the car, opened up the door and jumped in the backseat with us. I wasn't planning on hanging out with Pac. I introduced him to my friend and we chatted until it was time to hit the red carpet." When we got inside the venue, I found our table and sat down. I was just starting to get comfortable when Pac slid into a chair next to me and Nicci. He was acting like he was going to sit there for the rest of the night.
"Tupac eventually left our table and was mingling. After the party ended, we went outside to our limo and Tupac was standing there. "Where ya'll going now?" "We're going to a party at the Peninsula hotel," I said quickly. He said, "That's where I'm staying!" I'll catch a ride over there with ya'll. Tupac jumped in the limo and stretched out, making himself comfortable. Now, I was definitely feeling weird."
"After the party at the hotel, we hung out a bit more with Tupac and his friends, shared a blunt and discussed specifics on my guest appearance on an upcoming record."
A few days later, Pac arrived at my house driving a black convertible Mercedes-Benz with the top down. At this time, Pac had enough fame and notoriety that he did not need to be driving around Los Angeles in a top-down convertible. At that moment I wanted to tell him that I would drive to the studio myself in my rental car. But I didn't. I just got in the car and we pulled off. I noticed immediately that a black Town Car was following us. From the look of the beefy guys in the backseat, they were security guards.
"The ride to the studio was about 15 minutes. We didn't talk much. I didn't like any of it, the convertible, the security behind us, none of it felt right. I decided I would go in, lay down my vocals and haul ass out of the studio as soon as possible."
We pulled up to a nondescript parking lot in nearby Tarzana. I followed Tupac through the doors. As soon as the doors opened, I saw blood-red carpeting throughout the hallway entrance and lighted sign that said "Death Row Records."
"I felt the blood rush from my face and I thought I was going to pass out."
