Doug Young is a former promoter for Death Row/Interscope:
Soon Suge begin to hire ex-convicts like Lip Dog to keep watch over the office, said label promoter Doug Young. "Lip spent more than half his life in prison. He was a very mean and intimidating guy, about six feet three, like Suge, just as big, too. Big scars all over his head. All kinds of knife wounds from getting shanked in jail. Bullet wounds. A big motherfukker. He used to sit there and smoke Camels with no butt. Now, can you imagine that dude?"
The Death Row office was soon overrun with Bloods. "The gang shyt was something I had to deal with," said Doug. "The left side of the room was all Bloods; the right side would be all Crips. You had to understand: that office was so fukked up when you first went up there. I don't think it was intentionally divided - Bloods or Crips. That's just the way it was."
These gang members sat on stools, chain-smoking Newports and Kools and telling each other stories about gang wars or bloody prison fights. "Telling crazy stories," Doug Young sighed. "And when you look down at their shoes, they had guns tucked in them." The office had the feeling of a prison cell block. The towering convicts would loom over weaker employees, then relieve them of their "lunch money". Suge's henchmen were indirect about it, asking, "You gon' buy us a pizza today, eh? How much you got on our pizza? Whatchoo got on that pizza?"
People who tried to chat with them were attacked. "You'd be thinking you're just going to hang out, then these motherfukkers would pull a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde on you."
People who came to the office uninformed met these ex-convict gang members under less-than-ideal circumstances. Messengers and business associates had their pockets patted down and money taken. "And Suge just covered up for their group."
Eventually Doug kept himself going by telling himself that working for the label was similar to pledging in a fraternity. "There were just certain things people knew they were going to go through," he explained. "You were either down with it or you weren't."
He tried to stay on their good side but knew why they were in the office. Suge wasn't the type to take someone to court; he had no patience for extensive proceedings. Why pay an arm and a leg in legal costs when situations could be handled directly in minutes?
If Suge felt someone was trying to cheat him, the offender would be dragged into a storeroom by his goons and pounded to a bloody pulp. Death Row employees went about their filing and faxing as blood-curdling shrieks filled the office. They saw the door-knob jerking, knowing that people were desperately trying to escape a beating. Even young Black women were dragged into the room: while being battered, these women screamed "ROY!! ROY!!" They hoped Suge's assistant, Roy Tesfay, would call these psychopaths off.
Some of you Coli tough guys wouldn't have lasted a week in that place.
Soon Suge begin to hire ex-convicts like Lip Dog to keep watch over the office, said label promoter Doug Young. "Lip spent more than half his life in prison. He was a very mean and intimidating guy, about six feet three, like Suge, just as big, too. Big scars all over his head. All kinds of knife wounds from getting shanked in jail. Bullet wounds. A big motherfukker. He used to sit there and smoke Camels with no butt. Now, can you imagine that dude?"
The Death Row office was soon overrun with Bloods. "The gang shyt was something I had to deal with," said Doug. "The left side of the room was all Bloods; the right side would be all Crips. You had to understand: that office was so fukked up when you first went up there. I don't think it was intentionally divided - Bloods or Crips. That's just the way it was."
These gang members sat on stools, chain-smoking Newports and Kools and telling each other stories about gang wars or bloody prison fights. "Telling crazy stories," Doug Young sighed. "And when you look down at their shoes, they had guns tucked in them." The office had the feeling of a prison cell block. The towering convicts would loom over weaker employees, then relieve them of their "lunch money". Suge's henchmen were indirect about it, asking, "You gon' buy us a pizza today, eh? How much you got on our pizza? Whatchoo got on that pizza?"
People who tried to chat with them were attacked. "You'd be thinking you're just going to hang out, then these motherfukkers would pull a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde on you."
People who came to the office uninformed met these ex-convict gang members under less-than-ideal circumstances. Messengers and business associates had their pockets patted down and money taken. "And Suge just covered up for their group."
Eventually Doug kept himself going by telling himself that working for the label was similar to pledging in a fraternity. "There were just certain things people knew they were going to go through," he explained. "You were either down with it or you weren't."
He tried to stay on their good side but knew why they were in the office. Suge wasn't the type to take someone to court; he had no patience for extensive proceedings. Why pay an arm and a leg in legal costs when situations could be handled directly in minutes?
If Suge felt someone was trying to cheat him, the offender would be dragged into a storeroom by his goons and pounded to a bloody pulp. Death Row employees went about their filing and faxing as blood-curdling shrieks filled the office. They saw the door-knob jerking, knowing that people were desperately trying to escape a beating. Even young Black women were dragged into the room: while being battered, these women screamed "ROY!! ROY!!" They hoped Suge's assistant, Roy Tesfay, would call these psychopaths off.
Some of you Coli tough guys wouldn't have lasted a week in that place.
