Convicted Killer Confesses to Shooting West Coast Rapper Tupac Shakur

Dexter Isaac, an associate of Rap Mogul James "Jimmy Henchman" Richmond, claims he shot Tupac at Quad Studios in Manhattan 17 years ago.
According to a statement he gave to AllHipHop.com, Isaac says he was paid $2,500 by Richmond to shoot the West Coast rap icon.

"In 1994, James Rosemond hired me to rob 2Pac Shakur at hte Quad Studio. He gave me $2,500, plus all the jewelry I took, except for one ring, which he wanted for himself. It was the biggest of the two diamond rings that we took. He said he wanted to put the stone in a new setting for his girlfriend at the time, Synthia Ried. I still have as proof the chain that we took that night in the robbery."

Isaac even implies Sean "Puffy" Combs knew about the plan all along.

The Quad Studios robbery and shooting occurred less than two years before Tupac was murdered on Sept. 7, 1996.

Isaac is currently serving a life sentence for unrelated crimes at MDC Brooklyn.

Rosemond is CEO of Czar Entertainment who manages performer such as The Game and Sean Kingston.

According to the Smoking Gun, Rosemond is currently a fugitive from justice; he's wanted by the DEA and federal marshals in connection with his alleged leadership of a cocaine trafficking ring.

Isaac's full statement:

My name is Dexter Isaac. On Monday, May 23, 2011, James Rosemond released a statement in which he named myself and another individual, a Mr. Winston Harris (who I do not know), as government informants. I would like to clear the record on that statement: I have never been a rat for anybody and I do not have any deals nor was I made any promises by any government agency for information on Mr. Rosemond. Mr. Rosemond has crucified good reporters like Chuck Philips, at the LA Times, and Alison Gendar, at the Daily News, for telling the truth about him and his activities. He claims they had no proof that he was a rat for the government, which is an outright lie, because Mr. Rosemond, you signed a proffer agreement with the U.S. Attorney's office in New York on 10-20-1998. Mr. Rosemond, I have copies of your presentence report from North Carolina dated 1-13-1997 and other documents about you working with the government sending people you befriended to prison so you can maintain your own freedom. I have met with individuals on whom Mr. Rosemond has told.

Jimmy, I say to you: I have kept your secrets for years. You have never been arrested because of me, or anyone of our friends because of me. How dare you call me an informant! I have stayed silent in prison for the past 13 years, doing a life sentence like a real soldier should, when you and everybody have turned your backs on me. I have never gotten any help nor asked for any help from you or anyone since being locked up.

As a matter of fact, when I was first notified a couple years ago that the feds and Chuck Philips were investigating you, I wrote you and sent you everything they sent me. I kept it real with you because that's what real G's do. Anyway, that was before I found out that you were, in fact, already a turncoat rat for the government. Mr. Rosemond, if I was an informant like you, I would've been home years ago with my family, not doing life in prison.

Now I would like to clear up a few things, because the statute of limitations is over, and no one can be charged, and I'm just plain tired of listening to your lies.

In 1994, James Rosemond hired me to rob 2Pac Shakur at the Quad Studio. He gave me $2,500, plus all the jewelry I took, except for one ring, which he wanted for himself. It was the biggest of the two diamond rings that we took. He said he wanted to put the stone in a new setting for his girlfriend at the time, Cynthia Ried. I still have as proof the chain that we took that night in the robbery.

Now I'm not going to talk about my friend Biggie's death or 2Pac's death, but I would like to give their mothers some closure. It's about time that some one did, and I will do so at a different time. Jimmy, you and Puffy like to come off all innocent-like, but as the saying goes: You can fool some of the people some of the time, but you cannot fool all of the people all of the time.

Mr. Rosemond, I ask you: Are you going to flip on Puffy when the feds get you? To save yourself like you have done in the past? Because that's what a rat does. So in closing, we shall see who the rat is, in the near future.

If anyone has any questions regarding these statement or just want to be a friend to a real Soldier fighting for his freedom in prison feel free to write me at:
 

Waco madam's life recalled

TEMPLE, Texas — Before her life came to a violent end somewhere between Temple and Belton in August 1890, Cora McMahan had developed a salacious reputation everywhere she lived.
She was found by a passer-by who reported that McMahan was locked in an embrace with her love interest, notorious outlaw Pick Wiseman. She had been shot once with a shotgun at close range. Wiseman was shot 27 times.
Days earlier he was found not guilty in a murder case in which he was accused of gunning down a lawman.
The man who found the couple said their bodies were in a buggy, its horses tied to a fencepost.
Stories of the killings, which went unsolved, were printed in newspapers throughout the nation. In those accounts, McMahan was identified as a prostitute.
A new book, "The Oldest Profession in Texas: Waco's Legal Red Light District," written by James Plyant and Sherri Knight, reveals that McMahan was much more than a simple prostitute: she was a woman of influence in the brothel community.
By the time McMahan was 18 she was a madam in Brenham. She was illiterate. Tax records indicate her real name was Cora McGreal, Plyant said.
The way the prostitution trade in Texas worked in the late 1800s is madams established permanent residency in a city and the prostitutes traveled a circuit living in different cities and sometimes taking different names, Plyant said.
Perhaps McMahan's greatest success as the leader of a house of ill repute came during her time in Waco, where she is believed to have met Pick Wiseman.
Prostitution was actually legal within the Waco city limits during the time McMahan was running her brothel.
The Waco City Council, acting against state law, passed an ordinance that regulated the sex trade in the city, Knight said, adding that prostitutes were required to display their licenses and to have regular exams by a doctor to prevent the spread of venereal disease.
"It was kind of a farce," Knight said. "I doubt many men came in asking to see a certificate."
Even though prostitution was quasi-legal in Waco, county officials still made arrests based on state law.
In 1880, McMahan was found guilty on five counts of operating a "disorderly house." Each count carried a $100 fine.
"She wasn't really all that well liked in Waco," Knight said.
"Her bordellos had a tendency to draw police, and she was feisty."
Even though she wasn't well liked, McMahan still never served jail time for the convictions. At the request of several prominent Wacoans, including the county judge, Gov. O.M. Roberts pardoned her in 1881.
"I've never seen anything like that before," Pylant said about McMahan being pardoned before ever serving time.
McMahan had enough success operating her bordello in that environment that she branched out and opened a dancehall in a former military institute she had purchased.
In 1883, McMahan was found guilty of assault with intent to commit murder for a shooting death that happened at her dancehall. Her punishment was a $250 fine.
It is believed that McMahan got together with Wiseman in 1888, the same year she moved to Bell County.
Within two years of living here, McMahan and Wiseman became notorious characters in Bell County.
"She quickly became hated," Plyant said. "It wasn't the same climate as Waco."
Although McMahan mingled and did business among some of the most unsavory people in Bell County during the late 1800s, she apparently had a taste for fine things.
Upon her death an inventory of her estate listed lace curtains, vases, English china, marble tables and walnut furniture.
Her son, James McMahan, claimed the estate even though he had shielded his family from his mother's notorious background, Plyant said.
James McMahan appears to have avoided the same notorious reputation as his mother. He died quietly in the Los Angeles area in 1949 on what was his 80th birthday, Plyant said.