In an exclusive interview with PEOPLE from behind bars, Knight recounts the night he allegedly confronted Sean Combs
From a prison cell at California’s Richard J. Donovan Correctional Facility, Suge Knight — gray-bearded, 60, and still carrying the weight of a war story that never ended — replays the moment that shattered everything in an exclusive interview with PEOPLE.
He’s the last man alive who witnessed the night Tupac Shakur was shot. And nearly three decades later, he’s still naming names.
But this isn’t just about the bullets that flew on the Vegas Strip that fateful night on September 7, 1996. It’s about another evening, years later, when Knight finally came face-to-face with the man he believes was connected to it: Sean “Diddy” Combs.
The twist? Their unlikely confrontation didn’t go down in a dark alley or a recording studio. It happened at the Roosevelt Hotel in Hollywood, and the man who allegedly set it up was Prince.
In Knight’s telling, the Purple One orchestrated a surreal, tension-filled encounter between two of hip-hop’s most powerful and most bitterly opposed figures. And Knight says he came ready to settle it once and for all.
Shakur rode shotgun in a black BMW driven by Knight, Death Row Records’ imposing co-founder. They cruised past the MGM Grand en route to Club 662, a Vegas hotspot Knight ran, still buzzing from a Mike Tyson fight earlier that night. Then came the white Cadillac, creeping up beside them at a red light just off the Strip. The bullets tore through the silence.
Prosecutors now say Compton Crip Orlando “Baby Lane” Anderson didn’t have the angle to shoot. Instead, he allegedly handed the gun to Deandre “Big Dre” Smith, who opened fire — striking Tupac four times and grazing Knight. A generation of conspiracy theories was born in that blast.
In another court filing in December 2024, Anderson was described as the alleged shooter. Last fall, authorities finally charged Duane “Keefe D” Davis, a former drug kingpin Crip leader turned informant and the only living suspect tied to the murder.
But it’s Davis’ interviews, rife with name-drops and whispered betrayals, that dragged Combs’ name back into the spotlight.
According to the court records, Davis claimed Combs once told him, “I’d give anything for that dude[‘s] head,” referring to Knight, and even allegedly offered $1 million to “get rid of Knight and Shakur.”
Davis says he was solicited directly but Combs has vehemently denied any involvement. He has never been charged or officially named a suspect. “Sean Combs has never been considered a suspect in the Tupac Shakur homicide investigation,” a Las Vegas police spokesperson reiterated in July 2024.
But in Knight’s version, the seeds of the killing were planted long before, and the tension didn’t die with Tupac.
In June 2007, more than a decade after the drive-by, Knight claims he finally came face-to-face with Combs in an almost surreal showdown straight out of a fever dream. But Knight explains the meeting was orchestrated by none other than Prince.
“I’m sitting there, eating,” Knight recalls, leaning into his memory like a punchline. “And everybody’s always thinking the gangster’s the guy in the room looking all hard and tough. But let me tell you, the gangster was Prince.”
According to Knight, the icon himself sent someone mid-show to summon him.
Despite a set list peppered with hits, the show was an old school James Brown-inspired groove and he was going to town with it, singing about sex and romance and unleashing powerful guitar solos to keep pace with the fiery work of his horn section.
“Then they come over and say, ‘Man, Prince is performing right now, and he wants you to come watch the show. He has a special table for you.’ Who gonna say no to Prince? Sh–” Knight says, laughing. “You already know.”
Escorted through the venue, Knight was led to a VIP table Prince had set aside, which was prime real estate in a packed house. The room was filled with couches and coffee tables, and Prince was in a chatty mood, walking through the crowd and talking to patrons and friends while the band jammed.
“Prince comes up playing the guitar, I never seen Prince smile so much in my life,” Knight remembers. “Laughing, happy. And I tell him, ‘We both had two of the best rappers in hip-hop.'”
Then he noticed the seating chart.
“He set me down at this table where Puffy was there. Nas was there, other people. Prince knew what he was doing. Must’ve been pissed at Puffy. He knew we hated each other. I think he [allegedly] planted me at that table on purpose.”
The air got thick fast. Knight claims he was finally ready to confront Combs about Tupac’s shooting. “I got under Puff’s skin,” Knight says. “I told him, ‘Let’s go to the restroom together and get it out of the way.’ You know, settle it.” But Knight claims Combs wasn’t built for that kind of closure. “The rest I said to Puffy… well some things are best left unsaid.”
“He stood up, heated. That’s when I realized he wasn’t ready for it — ’cause not only did they rush him out, they [allegedly] threw coats and sh– over his head so you couldn’t see his face and had jackets to hide him.”
It was peak Hollywood absurdity, rap’s two biggest titans nearly squaring off in a luxury hotel, while Prince played master of ceremonies, silently refereeing from stage in the dark with barely any lighting.
Now, from a prison phone line, Knight still sees the story in sharp detail and lays the blame with cutting precision. “I just want to take a deep breath and heal,” he says quietly. Then, as if the pause never happened: “[I believe] Diddy does deserve jail for it.”
