Just like вЂњMe Against the WorldвЂќ and вЂњAll Eyez On Me,вЂќ the weakest links here are the volatile ones, like opener вЂњBomb FirstвЂќ and closer вЂњAgainst All Odds,вЂќ both of which are nothing more than вЂњshoot before you get shotвЂќ assaults upon his aforementioned enemies. Most of TupacвЂ™s worst efforts showcased his desire to be all things gangsta, and this album is no different, with the exception of the rollicking outlaw anthem вЂњMe and My Girlfriend,вЂќ a version that destroys Jay-ZвЂ™s sampling, (a curious event in itself as Jay-Z is referred to as a вЂњcorny sounding mother***erвЂќ on this record). ItвЂ™s difficult to decide which side truly encapsulated his personality, the most logical idea is that he was torn between all, yet his greatest successes were achieved when he jettisoned volatility in exchange for either sentimentality or vulnerably questioning his own demise. Tupac had several distinct lyrical personas, but the most consistent and prevalent are the chest puffing, live-by-the-sword thug, the introspective, nostalgic gentleman who wrote songs about the old school, the plight of young women, his mama, and the soothsaying, death obsessed paranoid. Daz, Dre, Snoop, and Nate Dogg werenвЂ™t walking through the door this time around, and the result is a dark, stripped down, at times introspective, at times attacking album that perfectly showcases TupacвЂ™s bipolar duality. From an atmospheric standpoint, вЂњThe Don KilluminatiвЂќ is a far cry from the bombastic, West Coast Rap defining party romp that was his previous release, вЂњAll Eyez On Me.вЂќ With the exception of stereotypical sex romp вЂњToss it UpвЂќ and the overtly nostalgic вЂњTo Live and Die in L.A.,вЂќ the album is awash in morose melodies, foregoing the sunny beats of the вЂњCalifornia LoveвЂ™sвЂќ вЂњAll About YouвЂ™sвЂќ and вЂњHow Do You Want ItвЂ™sвЂќ of yore. Looking back, it seems that TupacвЂ™s obsession with resurrection and metamorphosis had a lot more to do with altering his artistic direction than an elaborate hoax to fake his own demise. What we failed to recognize at the time however, is вЂњThe Don KilluminatiвЂќ was not a prophetic road map awash in clues of TupacвЂ™s demise that distinction belongs to his masterpiece вЂњMe Against the World.вЂќ When all hyperbole is removed and coincidences ignored, TupacвЂ™s episode as Makaveli can be taken for what it truly is, a straight forward, above average hip hop album whose packaging and timeliness led us to believe it was something it ultimately was not. The record was an event, and the four million units moved inside of a year proved our insurmountable thirst for conspiracy.

When Death Row decided to wait all of two months to release вЂњThe Don Killuminati,вЂќ a shameless act of contrived exploitation, great attention was paid to the depiction of Tupac plastered on the cross, and the inclusion of the eerie вЂњexit Tupac, enter MakaveliвЂќ statement in the liner notes was viewed by some as Nostradamus-esque ponderings. The fact this recording incorporated numerous ideologies to the number seven, and seven days as a concept, an idea that is rooted in the notion of resurrection, is also a substantial coincidental quagmire. In the 13 year fallout and with the benefit of hindsight, it is safe to assume that Pac is no more, regardless if Suge Knight, a couple of Crips from Los Angeles, or Bugs Bunny was the evil genius behind his ghastly demise, but we didnвЂ™t want to believe it at the time.ДЄdmittedly the fact two months before his murder Tupac decided to record an album under the pseudonym Makaveli, an ode to a scheming political writer who advocated faking oneвЂ™s death to beguile enemies is a notable coincidence and didnвЂ™t exactly quell the hysteria. We scoured the morbidly prophetic songs вЂњDeath Around The Corner,вЂќ вЂњIf I Die Tonight,вЂќ вЂњBury Me a G,вЂќ вЂњLife Goes On,вЂќ and вЂњHow Long Will They Mourn MeвЂќ from past releases, bargaining that TupacвЂ™s obsession with death was really all part of his evil plot to either avoid the law, or lull вЂњenemiesвЂќ like Mobb Deep, Nas, and Biggie Smalls into a false sense of security before an unpredictable and triumphant return to extract revenge. When вЂPac got shot (for the second time), fans (like the 16 year old me), patiently waited for his return while tearing his discography apart for clues, grasping for unattainable straws of hope, worshipping at the desperate altar of denial. Denial was masked with intrigue, morbid curiosity supplanted logical thought, and no one wanted to admit Tupac was as dead as Kennedy.

Owing to human natureвЂ™s incapability to resist anything shrouded in mystery, the 1996 death of Tupac Shakur set off a colossal wave of paranoia. Review Summary: Exit 2Pac, Enter Makaveli.

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