Before the shooting, I was working as a journalist for RIGHT ON! Magazine, and I continued on afterwards. One day, I interviewed Nas. His first album, "illmatic", has just went gold, and Sony threw a party to celebrate. I'd known Nas for many years, and we were very good friends, but like I said, I was a different person by this point.

Everything was going fine at the party at first, everyone was having a great time, but it didn't last. Long story short, there was a misunderstanding over some nonsense between my crew and Nas' crew. Funkmaster Flex was there, and he was calling for me to join Nas up on stage, but by that point, sh*t was WAY out of hand, and gunshots were going off in the crowd.

People started screaming and running for the doors. We all managed to ruin an event that should've been beautiful. That was a day a black mother should've been proud of her son, but we fu*ked it up. It wasn't cool, and it's one of the few things in life I truly regret and apologize for.

Nas's debut, Illmatic, had gone gold in October 1994, and he was having a party at the Melting Pot nightclub in Manhattan. The whole QB went. The party was poppin' for a few hours when some guy in a wheelchair started beefing with one of the QB homies. How is somebody in a wheelchair still beefing? I thought to myself. Everybody from the hood was upset because Nas's mom's and baby moms Carmen were there and shouldn't be exposed to needless drama, so one of the QB dudes kicked the wheelchair gangsta in the chest, knocked him out the wheelchair, and started brawling with his crew. People got shot, stabbed, cut, and beat down. It seemed people didn't believe what we said in our song's or they didn't care and had a fetish for pain. It's mind-bogglin. We went home and saw it on the new later.