“‘He Was NEVER One of Us’: Eazy-E’s Forgotten Warning About Snoop Dogg Comes True in 2024 ”
In the ever-evolving narrative of hip-hop, legacies are shaped not just by music, but by truth — and betrayal.
And no rivalry in the game carries more unresolved tension than the silent war between Eazy-E and Snoop Dogg.
While history books have tried to file it under “old school drama,” the latest string of controversies surrounding Snoop has fans revisiting Eazy’s last interviews — and the chilling clues he left behind.
Let’s take it back.
Back to the days of Ruthless Records and the gritty origins of gangsta rap.
Eazy-E, born and raised in Compton, was more than a rapper — he was a visionary.
A pioneer.
A man who turned the streets into platinum records and made the world listen.
But when his empire — N.W.A.— started to fracture, a new force emerged: Death Row Records.
And with it came Dr.
Dre, Suge Knight, and a young rapper from Long Beach who would become a household name: Snoop Dogg.
Snoop was slick.
Smooth.
Charismatic.
And behind him stood Dre — Eazy’s former brother-in-arms, now turned bitter rival.
When Dre and Snoop dropped The Chronic in 1992, it wasn’t just a genre-defining moment — it was a declaration of war.
That album was laced with disses aimed directly at Eazy-E, branding him a relic, a has-been.
But Eazy didn’t flinch.
He fired back with “Real Muthaphuckkin G’s,” a blistering rebuttal that pulled the curtain back on Snoop and Dre, branding them as “studio gangsters” — rappers pretending to live a life they never truly knew.
Eazy claimed that Dre wasn’t really from Compton, that he came from dance music and lip gloss — not drive-bys and street corners.
He mocked Snoop’s image, calling him “anorexic,” all bark and no bite.
But beneath the insults was a calculated warning: don’t trust Snoop.
He’s not who you think he is.
And now… decades later, that message is hitting different.
Snoop’s journey since Death Row has been nothing short of strange.
While he’s worn many hats — rapper, actor, entrepreneur, football coach — he’s also left a trail of contradictions and questionable allegiances.
It started with whispers during the Tupac era.
Snoop was Death Row’s golden child… until Pac arrived.
Suddenly, Snoop wasn’t the main attraction anymore.
And according to insiders like Warren G, Snoop was supposed to be in Vegas the night Pac was shot.
But he wasn’t.
He stayed behind.
Allegedly at the urging of Warren himself.
And when the news of the shooting broke, Snoop — instead of standing by Pac — distanced himself.
Fast.
Suge Knight later questioned why Snoop had a walkie-talkie that night, suggesting he was somehow in the loop.
He even accused Snoop of never visiting Pac in the hospital, despite telling people he did.
Then, just months after Tupac’s death, Snoop appeared on Steve Harvey’s show — hand-in-hand with Diddy, of all people — to publicly squash the East Coast-West Coast beef.
A PR move? Or something more?
The timing was… off.
Fast forward again.
After Eminem took shots at Diddy in his 2018 diss track “Killshot,” it was Snoop who suddenly came for Em.
Said he wasn’t in his top 10.
Called him overrated.
Why? Fans noticed the pattern.
Every time someone challenges Diddy, Snoop sides with him.
Despite being tied to Death Row — a label built in opposition to Bad Boy — Snoop keeps finding his way back to Puff.
And then came the biggest flip-flop of all.
In 2017, Snoop roasted every Black artist who even considered performing at Donald Trump’s inauguration.
He called them Uncle Toms, threatened to “roast the sh*t” out of anyone who touched that stage.
He even dropped a music video where he literally shot a clown version of Trump.
Edgy, political, and seemingly principled.
But in 2020, during Trump’s re-election weekend, Snoop was caught performing at the “Crypto Ball” — a Trump Inauguration event.
And the kicker? He didn’t post about it.
Not a word on Instagram.
Not a tweet.
For a man who usually posts 15 times a day, that silence was deafening.
Now throw in that cringey anti-hate commercial he did recently — the one where celebrities dramatically recite lines about racism, ending with the line: “I hate that we even have to make this commercial.
” It was funded by a group that critics say masks pro-Israel propaganda behind anti-Semitism awareness.
And yet, there Snoop was, delivering lines with Tom Brady like he was auditioning for an Oscar.
The same man who pretended to assassinate Trump is now doing commercials for his donors?
This isn’t evolution.
It’s hypocrisy.
Which brings us right back to Eazy-E.
He may not have lived to see this version of Snoop Dogg — corporate icon, political chameleon, loyalty-for-sale.
But he saw the signs early.
He knew that Snoop wasn’t built from the same cloth.
That he’d switch sides if the money was right.
That behind the smooth talk and chronic smoke was a man with no allegiance but the bag.
And let’s not forget: Eazy kept making money off Dre and Snoop long after they dissed him.
Dre was still contractually signed to Ruthless Records when he moved to Death Row, meaning every time Dre dropped a hit, Eazy cashed in.
That’s why E laughed when asked about the drama.
“Dre Day is only Eazy’s payday.”
But it was more than business.
Eazy genuinely felt betrayed.
Not just by Dre — but by the entire system that enabled him to be pushed aside.
That included Snoop.
And he warned us.
Told interviewers that Snoop was a “fairy tale rapper”.
That he came from techno beats, not the block.
That he was playing a role he never earned.
And today, with every corporate collab, political pivot, and suspicious silence… it’s starting to look like Eazy was right.
Fans are now waking up.
They’re connecting the dots.
They’re watching Snoop shape-shift his way through scandals while conveniently avoiding the fallout.
Whether it’s Trump, Diddy, or corporate ad dollars, Snoop’s loyalty seems to follow the highest bidder.
And in a world where authenticity once meant everything, that’s a hard pill to swallow.
So now the question isn’t did Snoop change? It’s:
Was Eazy-E warning us about the real Snoop Dogg the entire time?
And if so… why didn’t we listen?