Cyrus Langhorne
Law enforcement has provided some new information on what may have ultimately had former Roc-A-Fella Records rapper Beanie Sigel shot yesterday (December 5) in New Jersey.
According to Pleasantville Police Chief Jose Ruiz, an altercation between Sigel and 22-year-old victim Umar Salahuddin may have sparked the shooting.
Salahuddin, whose family owns the house where the shooting occurred, refused medical treatment and was uncooperative, cops said. Ruiz said Sigel and Salahuddin appear to be related. “Apparently, there was a struggle of some type, which led to Mr. Grant being shot and that is all we have at this point,” Ruiz said. (Page Six)
Check out this post-shooting Beanie picture right here…
A photo of Sigel 
According to reports, the shooting went down in Pleasantville, New Jersey around 9:30 a.m. EST.
Sigel was shot in the torso and transported to AtlanticCare Regional Medical Center’ city campus. Police confirmed the victim as Dwight Grant, which is Sigel’s real name. The second victim reportedly refused medical treatment on the scene, the cause or extent of the injury was not immediately available. (Press of Atlantic City)
Sigel was previously shot nearly a decade ago in his hometown.
Beanie was shot once before during a 2006 bank robbery in Philadelphia. In 2003, he was charged with attempted murder after he allegedly fired 6 bullets into a Philadelphia nightclub, sticking a man in the foot and stomach. He was later acquitted. (NY Daily News)
Sigel needs to stay out them streets this ain’t 2006 no more
Well it’s hard for him to survive and maintain in the rapgame too.
He hasn’t even tried to make rap work. Like really try I mean. He’s had drug use issues and is probably continuing his downward spiral. Looks like he may end up back in jail if he doesn’t change his ways.
Or he gonna end up pushing up daises if he don’t chill out
A pine box!
You don’t know if he tried or not. Him having issues with drug use is not necessarily indicative of a self sabotaging plot. Maybe the drug use can be attributed to bigger problems or personal grievances in his life. However it does seem that he has had quite a number of run ins with the law and connections to violent situations so he does have to be held accountable for some of these situations.
Tell me about it! Dude is too old for this shit! He will be put in a pine box soon or later…Jay Z is so right about these dudes. You give them everything and they still do not know how to act right! Try staying alive my Nukka!
lol you see how he treated kevin heart in paper soldiers. im sure this is the same situation lol except homie was havin it nomore
I will never understand Nukkas!
(Word, it’s time nigga?)
Yeah, it’s time man (aight nigga, begin)
Yeah, straight out the fuckin dungeons of rap
Where fake niggaz don’t make it back
I don’t know how to start this shit, yo, now
Verse One: Nas
Rappers I monkey flip em with the funky rhythm I be kickin
Musician, inflictin composition
of pain I’m like Scarface sniffin cocaine
Holdin a M-16, see with the pen I’m extreme, now
Bulletholes left in my peepholes
I’m suited up in street clothes
Hand me a nine and I’ll defeat foes
Y’all know my steelo with or without the airplay
I keep some E&J, sittin bent up in the stairway
Or either on the corner bettin Grants with the celo champs
Laughin at baseheads, tryin to sell some broken amps
G-Packs get off quick, forever niggaz talk shit
Remeniscing about the last time the Task Force flipped
Niggaz be runnin through the block shootin
Time to start the revolution, catch a body head for Houston
Once they caught us off guard, the Mac-10 was in the grass and
I ran like a cheetah with thoughts of an assassin
Pick the Mac up, told brothers, “Back up,” the Mac spit
Lead was hittin niggaz one ran, I made him backflip
Heard a few chicks scream my arm shook, couldn’t look
Gave another squeeze heard it click yo, my shit is stuck
Try to cock it, it wouldn’t shoot now I’m in danger
Finally pulled it back and saw three bullets caught up in the chamber
So now I’m jetting to the building lobby
and it was filled with children probably couldn’t see as high as I be
(So whatchu sayin?) It’s like the game ain’t the same
Got younger niggaz pullin the triggers bringing fame to they name
and claim some corners, crews without guns are goners
In broad daylight, stickup kids, they run up on us
Fo’-fives and gauges, Macs in fact
Same niggaz’ll catch a back to back, snatchin yo’ cracks in black
There was a snitch on the block gettin niggaz knocked
So hold your stash until the coke price drop
I know this crackhead, who said she gotta smoke nice rock
And if it’s good she’ll bring ya customers in measuring pots, but yo
You gotta slide on a vacation
Inside information keeps large niggaz erasin and they wives basin
It drops deep as it does in my breath
I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death
Beyond the walls of intelligence, life is defined
I think of crime when I’m in a New York state of mind
(“New York state of mine” –> Rakim *repeat 4X*)
Verse Two: Nas
Be havin dreams that I’ma gangster — drinkin Moets, holdin Tecs
Makin sure the cash came correct then I stepped
Investments in stocks, sewein up the blocks
to sell rocks, winnin gunfights with mega cops
But just a nigga, walking with his finger on the trigger
Make enough figures until my pockets get bigger
I ain’t the type of brother made for you to start testin
Give me a Smith and Wessun I’ll have niggaz undressin
Thinkin of cash flow, buddah and shelter
Whenever frustrated I’ma hijack Delta
In the P.J.’s, my blend tape plays, bullets are strays
Young bitches is grazed each block is like a maze
full of black rats trapped, plus the Island is packed
From what I hear in all the stories when my peoples come back, black
I’m livin where the nights is jet black
The fiends fight to get crack I just max, I dream I can sit back
and lamp like Capone, with drug scripts sewn
Or the legal luxury life, rings flooded with stones, homes
I got so many rhymes I don’t think I’m too sane
Life is parallel to Hell but I must maintain
and be prosperous, though we live dangerous
cops could just arrest me, blamin us, we’re held like hostages
It’s only right that I was born to use mics
and the stuff that I write, is even tougher than dice
I’m takin rappers to a new plateau, through rap slow
My rhymin is a vitamin, Hell without a capsule
The smooth criminal on beat breaks
Never put me in your box if your shit eats tapes
The city never sleeps, full of villians and creeps
That’s where I learned to do my hustle had to scuffle with freaks
I’ma addict for sneakers, twenties of buddah and bitches with beepers
In the streets I can greet ya, about blunts I teach ya
Inhale deep like the words of my breath
I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death
I lay puzzle as I backtrack to earlier times
Nothing’s equivalent, to the new york state of mind
did not know this nigga was home