So if you open up a browser right now and Google
our subject for today, you're going to see two
things almost immediately. Right. You'll see
Grammy winning rapper and you'll see a date,
March 31st, 2019. The day he was murdered. The
day he was murdered. And it's, it's kind of sad,
really. It is because in the public consciousness,
that tragedy, it just, it often eclipses. The
biography, the headline just completely swallows
the human being. Exactly. And, you know, if we
just focused on the music or the crime scene,
we'd basically be doing a standard true crime
episode or maybe like a greatest hits review.
Sure. Yeah. But that is not the mission of this
deep dive. Not at all. We are looking at Nipsey
Hussle, born. Vermeer's Ask Herdom as a very
specific kind of case study. We aren't just talking
about hip hop here. We are talking about, I mean,
radical entrepreneurship. It really is. It's
a masterclass in vertical integration, if you
want to get technical about it. Vertical integration.
Explain that. Well, most people don't realize
that while Nipsey was rapping, he was actually
building a circular economy in South Central
Los Angeles. A circular economy. Yeah. I mean,
he didn't just want to get rich out of the hood.
His whole plan, his whole vision. was to buy
the hood so the wealth stayed there. And that's
the marathon concept we keep hearing about, right?
This is the one. You see, the marathon continues
everywhere. T -shirts, hashtags, murals. All
over the place. But it feels like for him it
was, I don't know, it was more than just a marketing
slogan. Oh, it was a business strategy. A deeply
counterintuitive business strategy. I think so.
Well, think about the world we live in. It's
obsessed with viral hits, right? 15 seconds of
fame on TikTok, quick cash. Get in, get out.
Exactly. Nipsey was playing a 10 -year game,
a game of endurance. He was betting on slow dimes
over fast nickels. Slow dimes over fast nickels.
I like that. The whole premise is that you endure
the struggle of the short term. You put in the
work now to secure long -term sovereignty later.
And we are going to get into the nuts and bolts
of that. Like, we really need to explain the
economics of how you convince people to pay $100
for a mixtape they could just get for free. It's
genius when you break it down. We'll get there.
But first... We need to set the scene. We have
to ground this in geography because you just
cannot understand Nipsey Hussle without understanding
the Crenshaw district. No, it's impossible. Specifically
that one intersection, Slauson and Crenshaw.
That intersection is, it's the stage for his
entire life. It's almost Shakespearean, really.
How do you mean? The duality of his existence
played out right there on those corners. On one
side, you have the D Street ties, the gang culture,
the Roland 60s. Right. On the other side, strictly
business, a corporate vision. He wasn't trying
to escape that neighborhood. He was actively
trying to own the deed to it. So let's start
at the very beginning, the origins. Because even
the name Nipsey Hussle tells a story, doesn't
it? It really does. He was born Aramis Joseph
Askewdom on August 15th, 1985. But he didn't
give himself that nickname, did he? No. And it's
actually a bit of a throwback reference that
I love. The name Nipsey Hussle is a play on Nipsey
Russell. Wait, Nipsey Russell? Uh -huh. The comedian,
the guy from the game shows in the 70s with the
little poem. The very same. A childhood friend
gave him the name. Okay, that's wild. But here
is the interesting part. It wasn't because Ermias
was, you know, cracking jokes all the time. So
why then? It was because the friend admired his
work ethic. He was always on the grind. He was
always hustling. In the most literal, fundamental
sense of the word. And that hustle started early.
I mean, we always hear rappers talk about the
grind, but there is this one detail in the research
about him shining shoes at age 11 that just,
it hits different. It's the sheer volume that's
impressive. Yeah. At 11 years old, his goal wasn't
just to shine a few pairs here and there. He
set a quota for himself. 100 pairs a day? 100
pairs of shoes a day. He charged $2 .50 a pair.
Okay, let me do the quick math here. That's $250
a day for an 11 -year -old. In the mid -90s,
that is serious money. It is. But forget the
money for a second. Think about the psychological
discipline required to hit 100 transactions in
a single day. You're right. You have to handle
rejection. You have to be charismatic. You have
to be fast. You have to manage your time. And
he was doing all of this, according to the sources,
to pay for his own school clothes. Not for video
games or candy. For necessity. Exactly. It just
foreshadows everything that comes later. He understood
volume and he understood service from the jump.
It definitely sets the stage for that whole marathon
mentality. But we also need to look at his heritage
because that adds this really unique layer to
his identity that a lot of his peers just didn't
have. He was raised by his mother, Angelique
Smith, who is African -American, and his father,
Dawoud Askadam, who is Eritrean. That bicultural
background is absolutely essential to understanding
him. his father came to los angeles from eritrea
back in the 1970s fleeing conflict so nipsey
was raised with this awareness of a bigger world
a world outside of south central and There's
a specific pivot point in his life that I think
the material suggests it defined his future more
than almost anything else. Oh, absolutely. You're
talking about the trip he took when he was 19.
Exactly. In 2004, when Nipsey was 19, his father
took him and his brother Samuel. Who everyone
knows as Black Sam. Right, Black Sam. He took
them on a trip to Eritrea. And this wasn't, you
know, a week -long resort stay. They were there
for three months. Three months. Can you imagine?
As a teenager from South Central L .A. That's
a lifetime. It's a massive culture shock. It
was, but in the most positive way imaginable.
Nipsey explicitly credited this trip with sparking
his entrepreneurial spirit. So what did he see
there that changed him? Well, you have to understand,
he was coming from a place where the narrative
for young black men was often very limited. Yeah.
You know, gangs, sports, or music. That was kind
of it. The typical paths out. Right. Then he
goes to Eritrea. And he sees people who look
just like him running the government, running
the banks, owning the businesses, patrolling
the streets as police. He saw complete self -determination.
That breaks the conditioning, doesn't it? Completely.
He saw black autonomy in action. He saw a community
structure that wasn't based on oppression or
reacting to an outside force. He came back to
L .A. with totally different wiring. The perspective
shift must have been huge. He realized, wait
a minute. We don't just have to survive the hood.
We can organize it. We can own it. But he came
back to a very specific and a very harsh reality
in LA. We have to be real about the environment
he was in. Oh, yeah. At age 14, this was before
the trip, he had left home and joined the Roland
60s neighborhood Crips. That was his reality.
He was. But even while he was in that life, the
records show he was exploring other avenues.
He was always looking for another hustle. Right.
And this is the duality we were talking about.
In 2002, at age 17, he joined a group called
Buttervision. Buttervision? What was that? It
was described as a creative multimedia digital
guerrilla movement. He was involved in making
DVDs, stuff like Beats and Baves, for one. Which,
titles aside, it shows he was already thinking
about product. About media. Exactly. He wasn't
just thinking about wrapping a verse. He was
thinking about the whole package. Production,
distribution, the physical media itself. And
that's when he recorded his first mixtape, Slauson
Boy Vol. 1. And the context of how he sold that
music is just iconic. He was selling these mixtapes.
Out of the trunk of his car. At a strip mall.
At the intersection of Slauson and Crenshaw,
the very same strip mall that plays such a huge
role later in the story. I mean, you couldn't
write a better narrative arc. Standing in a parking
lot, selling CDs out of a trunk, probably getting
shooed away by security or police. For sure.
To eventually buying the concrete underneath
your feet so that nobody can ever move you again.
That's the whole story right there. Yeah. So
let's move into that business evolution. Because
Nipsey... He defied the industry norms from pretty
early on. He did the major label thing for a
hot minute, right? He did. He signed to Epic
Records, and he had some real momentum, you know?
The Bullets Ain't Got No Name tape series had
built up a serious regional buzz. He was getting
known. Yeah, he collaborated with Drake on a
song called Killer way back in 2009. He was on
Snoop Dogg's album. malice in wonderland and
he got that xxl cover that's right xxl magazine
even named him one of their freshman top 10 in
2010 they labeled him most determined most determined
wow that feels almost prophetic looking back
it really does but then the classic industry
story happened epic records experienced financial
issues in 2010 and you know usually when a label
has money trouble the artists get stuck in limbo
You get shelved. You can't release music, but
you can't leave either. It's career purgatory.
It kills careers. It's happened to so many great
artists. So what did Nipsey do? He didn't wait
around. He didn't let them decide his fate. He
opted not to renew his contract. He just walked
away. And that's the birth of All Money In. That's
where he founded his own record label, All Money
In. All Money In. No middleman. But I mean, going
independent is scary. It's gotta be. You lose
that big machine behind you, the radio pluggers,
the marketing budget. Everything. It is scary,
but Nipsey turned it into a strength. He actually
refused to sign major deals later on. Really?
Yeah, even when big names came calling. The sources
mentioned Rick Ross' Maybach Music Group wanted
to sign him. And he said no. He said no. He realized
that ownership was more important than a quick
check. He understood that if you sign a standard
record deal, you are essentially an employee
of the label. You're working for them. You are.
If you own the label, you're the boss. He wanted
the equity. He wanted to own his masters. And
this entire philosophy, this entire strategy,
it all culminated in what I think is his most
famous business move. Oh, yeah. The Crenshaw
mixtape in 2013. I really want to spend some
time here because this is where the marathon
genius just really shines. This is the proud
to pay concept. Yeah. We have to look at the
context of the time. 2013, this is the peak of
the Napster aftermath. Yeah, right. Streaming
is just starting to figure itself out. But piracy
is everywhere. People are barely willing to pay
99 cents for a song on iTunes, let alone a whole
album. Music had been completely devalued. It
was just expected to be free. Exactly. The perceived
value was zero. So Nipsey Hussle, an independent
artist, decides to drop a mixtape called Crenshaw.
And he releases it as a free download on DatPiff.
So anyone on earth could get it for zero dollars.
No barrier to entry. Yes. But, and this is the
big, but. He also manufactured 1 ,000 physical
hard copies. Yeah. And he put a price tag on
them. $100. $100 each. Okay, I have to stop you
here. $100 for a CD in 2013. I know. That sounds
like economic suicide. I mean, why would anyone
on earth pay that when they can literally click
a download button for free? That's the genius
of it. That's the entire play. On paper, it's
insane. But you have to look at the psychology.
He was weaponizing scarcity. Weaponizing scarcity?
How? He wasn't just selling a CD with audio files
on it. He was selling a collector's item. He
was selling a badge of honor. He called the campaign
Proud to Pay. Proud to Pay? He was challenging
his core listeners. He was saying, if you say
you support the hustle, if you say you believe
in this movement, put a price on your loyalty.
Show me. It's almost like a modern day Patreon
before Patreon really existed. He was asking
for direct patronage from his most dedicated
fans. That's a perfect way to put it. He realized
he didn't need a million casual fans who kind
of liked his song on the radio. He needed a small
army of superfans who believed in the entire
mission. It filters the audience down to the
true believers. And he got a massive cosign from,
well, arguably the biggest businessman in hip
-hop history. Jay -Z. The stories that Jay -Z
heard about the strategy, he didn't just tweet
about it or give him a shout out. No. He respected
the audacity of it so much that he personally
contacted Nipsey's team and bought 100 copies.
Let me do the math on that one more time. That's
a $10 ,000 transaction. From one person. Nipsey
met up with him, gave him the discs. But think
about the ripple effect of that. The headline
wasn't just Nipsey makes 10K. The headline was
Jay -Z validates Nipsey Hussle's business mind.
The marketing value of that one transaction had
to be worth millions. Absolutely priceless. It
legitimized the entire experiment. And what was
the end result? He sold out. All 1 ,000 copies.
How long did it take? Less than 24 hours. He
made $100 ,000 cash instantly as an independent
artist. Wow. No distribution fees. No label taking
80 % of the pie. Just him and his team. Pure
profit. That... completely flips the entire industry
script. It proves you can exist outside the system
if your product has enough perceived value with
a core audience. Exactly. And he proved it wasn't
a fluke the very next year for his mixtape mailbox
money. Yeah. He sold copies for $1 ,000 each.
$1 ,000. $1 ,000. Okay, now that is just flexing.
But he didn't just, you know, keep that money
under his mattress or buy a fleet of Lamborghinis.
He invested it. Back into the neighborhood. Back
into the block. Let's talk about the Marathon
Clothing Store. This is the physical manifestation
of his entire brand. In June of 2017, he opened
the Marathon Clothing Store. And of course he
didn't open it on Melrose or in Beverly Hills.
Of course not. He opened it at Slauson and Crenshaw.
Right back where he was selling tapes out of
the crunk. of his car, the full circle. The exact
same spot. He founded it with his brother Black
Sam and his business partners Karen Seville and
Steve Carlos. But I want to dig into this smart
store idea because that term gets thrown around
a lot. Yeah. Smart store usually just means they
have an iPad at the register or like free Wi
-Fi. Was it just a gimmick? Yeah, this was way,
way deeper. Nipsey collaborated with a brilliant
software engineer named Idris Sandhu. Andrew
Sandhu. Their goal was to bridge the gap between
street culture and Silicon Valley, to merge the
physical and the digital. So what did they actually
do? How did it work? They embedded technology
into the physical tags of the closing. So on
price tag. Or the label. Yeah. So if you bought
a shirt, you weren't just buying a piece of cotton.
You had to use a specific app on your phone to
scan the tag, and that action unlocked exclusive
content. What kind of content? Music, videos,
behind -the -scenes footage, things that you
couldn't get on YouTube or Spotify or anywhere
else. So the shirt is literally a physical key
to a digital world. Precisely. Nipsey called
it his urban Sanrio concept. But think about
the data play here. This is the really brilliant
part. Okay. He's not relying on Instagram's algorithm
to reach his fans anymore, is he? No. He owns
the app. He owns the data. He knows exactly who
bought the shirt, where they are, and how to
contact them directly. He was building a direct
pipeline to his consumer that couldn't be shut
off by a third -party platform. That is incredibly
forward thinking. And then came the ultimate
power move the year before his death. The real
estate play. He partnered with a real estate
investor named David Gross to actually buy the
whole strip mall where the store was located.
He became a landlord. He didn't just lease the
storefront. He bought the land. And why is that
distinction so important? Why not just keep leasing
it? It's cheaper. Because usually when a neighborhood
like Crenshaw gets revitalized, what happens?
Gentrification. Gentrification 101. Outside developers
come in. They see cheap land. They buy it all
up. They jack up the rents. They put in a fancy
coffee shop and a yoga studio. And they push
the original residents and businesses out. Exactly.
The people who live there through all the hard
times don't get to enjoy the good times. They
get priced out. So Nipsey was trying to flip
that. Completely. He called it buying back the
block. It's defensive development. He wanted
to upgrade the neighborhood, put in new buildings,
better food options, residential units. But he
wanted to do it for the people who were already
living there. For the community. He wanted to
prove you can have nice things. Schem centers,
smart stores, without displacing the culture
that built the place in the first place. That
is the literal definition of community sovereignty.
Now, amidst all of this business, all this strategy,
we can't forget the music. No. Because the music
was the engine that drove the whole car. It absolutely
was. Yeah. The music was the marketing for the
entire movement. Yeah. We mentioned the Bullets
Ain't Got No Name series. That built the foundation.
Then came the marathon, and the marathon continues
mixtapes. That's where he was establishing that
very clear brand identity. And he wasn't working
in a vacuum. He was collaborating with everyone.
All the time. We talked about Drake and Snoop,
but he also had a very, very significant collaboration
in 2016 with YG. Oh, you mean the song FDT? FDT,
or, to be explicit, Fuck Donald Trump. Not a
lot of ambiguity in that title. It became a protest
anthem almost overnight. It did. But the context
in the source material is important here. It
wasn't just... like a political stunt to get
views or to be controversial. The song was written
about Nipsey's positive experiences with Mexican
immigrants in Los Angeles. He felt that the rhetoric
coming from the Trump campaign about immigrants
was fundamentally wrong based on what he saw
with his own eyes in his own neighborhood every
single day. It was a solidarity track. It was
about black and brown unity. Exactly. And that
unity was a theme he kept pushing over and over.
And then after all those mixtapes, all those
years of building, we finally got the official
debut album, Victory Lap. The wait for Victory
Lap was a saga in itself. I mean, he had been
teasing it for years. Fans were getting really
impatient. They were, but he waited until February
2018 to release it for a reason. He wanted to
make sure all the infrastructure was right. So
what was the deal? Did he sign with a major again?
He entered a partnership with Atlantic Records,
but it wasn't a standard new artist deal because
he had all that leverage from his independent
success from the $100 mixtapes. He had proof
of concept. He had proof of concept. So he negotiated
a partnership where he maintained a level of
control and ownership that new artists, frankly,
never get. And was it worth the wait, musically?
Oh, absolutely. It debuted at number four on
the Billboard 200. It sold 53 ,000 units in the
first week, which is huge for a debut. But critically,
it was universally acclaimed. It was nominated
for Best Rap Album at the Grammys. He lost to
Cardi B's Invasion of Privacy that year, right?
He did, but just being in that conversation as
an independent -minded artist, standing on that
stage, it was a victory in itself. It validated
the entire marathon strategy. And sadly, the
accolades, the big awards, they continued to
grow after he passed. Yeah. Racks in the Middle
with Roddy Ricch and Hit -Boy won a Grammy for
Best Rap Performance in 2020. And higher. That
incredible track with DJ Khaled and John Legend.
That one for best melodic rap performance. That
higher video is just... It's tough to watch now.
It is. It was filmed just days before his death.
He's wearing that bright blue suit, standing
on top of a parking structure in Inglewood, looking
like he's on top of the world. Because he was.
He was. And this connects directly to his activism.
He wasn't just rapping about success. He was
actively trying to create a pipeline for other
people to be successful. Right. You mentioned
the smart store, but there was also Vector 90.
Vector 90 is, I think, arguably one of his...
most important contributions, even if it gets
less press than the music or the store. What
was it exactly? It's a co -working space and
a STEM center right in the Crenshaw district.
Noosi saw this massive disconnect. You have Silicon
Valley up in Northern California generating trillions
of dollars in wealth. And then you have inner
city kids in L .A. who are brilliant, who are
smart, but they have zero access to that world.
They don't even know it exists as an option for
them. So Vector 90 was designed to be the bridge.
Exactly. It provided classes in science, technology,
engineering, and math. It was a place where local
entrepreneurs could come and work, get mentorship.
He wanted to show young people that there were
other paths out of the hood besides just sports
and entertainment. He wanted to create the next
generation of coders. The next generation of
coders and engineers and founders right there
on the block. He was also involved in another
big project, Destination Crenshaw, right? Yes,
that's the Open Air Museum project. As the Metro
K line was being built through the district,
there was a real fear that it would just bulldoze
the local culture, literally and figuratively.
So he got involved. He was involved in the planning
and advisory stages. He used his influence to
help brand the project and ensure that it would
showcase black history and culture, turning the
transit line into a destination in its own right,
rather than just a way to pass through the neighborhood.
But perhaps the most dangerous work he was doing,
and I use that word intentionally, was the peacemaking.
It is dangerous work, no question. I mean, Nipsey
was affiliated with the Roland 60s, the Cripset.
That was his background. Right. But he openly
collaborated with and was friends with Bloods
-affiliated rappers like YG. He was constantly
trying to set an example of unity. He was trying
to break the cycle of retaliatory violence that
had plagued the city for decades. And this leads
us to a detail that is just it's gut wrenching
to read about the meeting. This is one of those
what if moments that just haunts you. Nipsey
had reached out to the LAPD. To the police. To
the police. He had a meeting scheduled with the
police commissioner and with representatives
from Rock Nation. And what was the agenda? The
agenda was to discuss ways to prevent gang violence.
They were going to sit down and talk about real
tangible solutions. When was that meeting supposed
to happen? The meeting was scheduled for April
1st. One day after he was killed. One day later.
He was literally killed on the eve of a major
step toward the very peace he was trying to build.
So we have to talk about that day. March 31st,
2019. It's a Sunday. It was a Sunday afternoon.
And Nipsey was at the Marathon clothing store.
This is important. He was there without heavy
security. Why? He often moved around the neighborhood
without a massive entourage because he felt safe
there. It was his home. He was taking pictures
with fans, talking to people in the parking lot,
just being part of the community. And then at
3 .18 p .m., everything changed. A man named
Eric Holder approached him. Holder was 29 years
old. He was an acquaintance of Nipsey's and also
from the Roland 60s. So this wasn't a random
robbery. No. And it wasn't a rival gang hit in
the traditional sense of like a drive -by? No,
not at all. It was personal. Yeah. Extremely
personal. What was the motive? What happened?
Testimony at the trial revealed that they had
an argument earlier in the day. Nipsey had apparently
told Holder that there was talk on the streets
about him snitching, about him cooperating with
law enforcement. And in that culture, that is
the most serious accusation you can make. It
ruined your reputation instantly. It's a death
sentence, socially. Holder didn't take it as,
you know, a friend giving him a heads up. He
took it as disrespect. And what did he do? He
left the parking lot. He went and retrieved two
handguns. And he came back. He came back. That's
the key. That's the key to the whole case. He
fired at least 10 shots. Nipsey was hit multiple
times. And the brutality of it. Holder then kicked
him in the head before he fled the scene. And
two other people were wounded. In the crossfire,
yes. Nipsey was rushed to the hospital, but it
was too late. He was pronounced dead at 3 .55
p .m. He was only 33 years old. 33. Think about
everything we just discussed. The store, the
real estate, the STEM Center, the Grammy -nominated
album. Yeah. He did all of that by 33. The aftermath
of that day. Yeah. The shockwave was just instant.
But justice moves a lot slower. They caught Holder
pretty quickly, though, right? They did. He was
arrested on April 2nd. But the legal process
was agonizingly slow, partly because of all the
pandemic delays. The trial didn't really get
underway until mid -2022. And the defense tried
to argue that it wasn't premeditated. That seems
like a stretch. Right. The defense used a heat
of passion argument. They claimed Holder just
snapped because of the snitching accusation that
he was so provoked he couldn't control himself.
But he left and came back with guns? That was
the prosecution's entire case. The deputy DA,
John McKinney, he argued he thought about it
and he did it. They pointed out that Holder left
the scene, had time to cool off, went and got
weapons, and made the conscious choice to return
and kill. That is the literal definition of premeditation.
And the jury agreed with that? They did. On July
6, 2022, Eric Holder was found guilty of first
-degree murder. He was also convicted of attempted
voluntary manslaughter for the two bystanders
who were wounded. And the sentence. On February
22, 2023, he was sentenced to 60 years to life
in prison. So he'll never get out. Effectively,
he will die in prison. It's justice, technically.
But it doesn't bring Nipsey back. And it doesn't
undo the loss to the community. Not even close.
But looking at the response to his death. It
showed just how much he truly meant. This wasn't
just another celebrity death. No, it was a cultural
event, a seismic event. The response was unprecedented
for a rapper of his generation. The memorial
service was at the Staples Center. The Staples
Center. The arena where the Lakers play, they
gave away free tickets to the public and they
were gone instantly. And the procession, that's
the image that just sticks with me. A 25 .5 mile
funeral procession. It wound all through South
Central, Watts, all the places Nipsey grew up
or had influence. And people just lined the streets.
Crowds lined the streets for miles. It wasn't
just fans, it was families, grandmothers, gang
members from different sets. The Nation of Islam
provided security for the procession. It was
just this massive citywide display of love. and
respect. And former President Obama sent a letter
that was read at the service. That's a whole
other level. That was a powerful moment. Obama
wrote that while most folks looked at a neighborhood
like Crenshaw and saw only gangs, bullets, and
despair, Nipsey saw potential. He saw hope. That
validation from the highest level of government,
it really cemented Nipsey's status as more than
just an entertainer. He was being recognized.
As a true civic leader. And in a tragic twist
of fate, his death actually seemed to accelerate
the very peace he was working toward. This is
the silver lining, if you could even call it
that. In the days after he was killed, gang leaders
from rival sets groups that had been killing
each other for decades, they marched together
in his honor. There was a ceasefire. Real ceasefire.
Hundreds of gangs from L .A. and Compton reportedly
agreed to a peace agreement. very similar to
the famous 1992 truces that happened after the
Rodney King riots. They agreed to stay out of
each other's territory and stop the retaliatory
attacks. It took a tragedy of this magnitude
to shake the foundation enough to make that happen.
It did. And the city, the institutions, they
honored him officially, too. Oh, yeah. They renamed
the intersection of Slauson and Crenshaw. It's
now officially Ermias Nipsey Hussle Ashkenum
Square. That's incredible. The new Metro K line
station at Hyde Park was dedicated to him and
the community in August 2022. And on what would
have been his 37th birthday, he received a star
on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Culturally, his
impact just kept expanding after he was gone.
The murals, I mean, there. everywhere in LA.
Over 50 murals went up in Los Angeles within
just a few months. He became this saint -like
figure on the walls of the city. You really can't
drive through South Central without seeing his
face. But the impact went deeper than just paint
on a wall. The Marathon Book Club is a great
example of this. I love this part. Tell me about
the book clubs. So Nipsey was an avid reader.
He was constantly self -educating. And he would
always mention books in his interviews. Business
books like Contegious, cult classics like The
Spook Who Sat by the Door, books by black authors.
So he was leaving a syllabus. He left a syllabus.
And after he died, fans started forming these
book clubs all over the country to read the books
that Nipsey recommended. He made reading and
self -education cool in a way that very few influencers
are ever able to do. And we saw tributes in sports
and music as well. Constantly. Russell Westbrook,
the NBA player and a fellow L .A. native, dedicated
a historic 20 -20 -20 game. 20 points, 20 rebounds,
20 assists. to Nipsey. And Kendrick Lamar. Kendrick
Lamar, in his video for The Heart Part 5, used
deep fake technology to morph his own face into
Nipsey's while he was rapping about his legacy.
It was a haunting, beautiful, and really powerful
tribute. Puma released the marathon clothing
collection that he had been working on. They
did, with all the proceeds going to his neighborhood
NIF Foundation to continue his work. Even the
TV show All -American got involved, right? They
did, and the source material says Nipsey was
actually scheduled to appear in the season one
finale of that show, but he died before it could
happen. So instead, the show wrote in a eulogy
for him. They had characters wearing marathon
clothing, and they painted a huge mural specifically
for the episode. It just showed how deeply embedded
he was in the L .A. narrative beyond just music.
It's just so clear that while the man is gone,
the brand and more importantly, the philosophy
is stronger than ever. And that brings us right
back to the core concept, the marathon. But we
do have to acknowledge the physical reality of
the situation now. Which is what? The marathon
clothing store. That smart store on the corner
he fought so hard to own has remained closed
and fenced off ever since his death. It's a memorial
now. A landmark. So what does this all mean?
We've looked at the hustle, the music, the business,
the community work, the tragedy. What's the final
takeaway? I think it means that Nipsey Hussle
provided a blueprint, a tangible one. He showed
that you don't have to leave your community to
be successful. You can build in your community.
You don't have to escape. You don't have to escape.
You can own your masters. Yeah. You can integrate
technology. You can bridge the gap between the
streets and the boardroom. He went from the Slauson
boy selling mixtapes to a community icon. And
he left a manual for economic independence that
hip hop and really anyone is still studying.
Exactly. The manual is there for anyone to pick
up and read. So before we wrap up, here's a final
thought to leave you with. We've talked about
the marathon. We talked about endurance. Nipsey's
flagship store is physically closed. The doors
are locked. Yet his message is louder and more
global now than it ever was when he was alive.
It raises a really interesting question. How
does a marathon continue when the runner is gone?
It continues because he successfully passed the
baton. The real question is, are you looking
at your own community, your own block, your own
neighborhood with the same kind of vision that
Nipsey had? Are you seeing the despair or are
you, like him, seeing the potential in the pavement?
That is the challenge he left all of us. Thanks
for diving deep with us. Keep running your lap.