😱 “THEY KNEW TOO MUCH!” — DELETED Interviews of DMX & Black Rob EXPOSE the Industry’s DARK Side 👿📼

When you think of DMX and Black Rob, you think of raw truth.

You think of grit.

You think of voices that shook the streets and scared the suits.

But underneath the platinum plaques and street credibility was something darker — something more insidious — that both men tried to warn us about.

DMX, with his unmatched energy and spiritual intensity, wasn’t just rapping.

He was pleading.

Pleading for people to look deeper — past the beats, past the charts — into the machine behind it all.

He once sold over 28 million records.

He headlined world tours.

And yet… he died broken, battling demons few understood.

But it wasn’t just addiction.

It wasn’t just trauma.

It was something else.

Something he talked about repeatedly: The Devil.

Back in 2007, DMX appeared on HBO’s Def Poetry Jam and dropped a lyrical nuclear bomb titled “The Industry.

” In just a few minutes, he laid bare everything wrong with the music business.

The lies.

The manipulation.

The system designed not to elevate artists — but to break them.

“The industry don’t give a f*** about you,” he said.

“But the industry couldn’t make a dime without you.

” He didn’t mince words.

He warned young rappers about how they’d be chewed up, spat out, and forgotten — unless they sold their souls.

Years later, on the Dr.

Phil Show, DMX doubled down.

He talked about his encounters — literal conversations — with what he believed was the devil.

Not once, but three times.

The offers were tempting.

Fame.

Power.

Escape.

But he turned them down.

And what came after? A downward spiral of arrests, health battles, industry exile, and more.

Was it the cost of defiance? Was he being punished for telling the truth?

In a separate jailhouse interview in Arizona — a state he once called “God’s country” — DMX said he met the devil in broad daylight.

“It’s not a person.

It’s what happens.

The things the devil does.

He works through people.

” He said if he hadn’t met the devil there, he wouldn’t have realized how strong God made him.

But after that moment, he swore he would never return to Arizona.

Not even fly over it.

This wasn’t metaphor.

This wasn’t exaggeration.

DMX was talking about powerful forces in the industry that he believed were real.

And deadly.

From shady contracts to underground networks, he spoke like a man who knew the price of resistance — and paid it.

And then there’s Black Rob.

Another raw voice from the streets.

While DMX fought demons in the light, Rob was silenced in the shadows.

He was Bad Boy’s gritty edge.

His breakout hit “Whoa!” became an anthem.

But when the cameras turned off, so did the support.

Behind the scenes, Rob said he was taken off the Bad Boy website while he was in prison.

His health insurance was cut.

His income — stripped.

He suffered not one, but four strokes.

He needed dialysis.

He was broke.

Homeless.

But what made it worse? The people he once made millions for — including Diddy — vanished.

“Nobody reached out,” he said.

“No one came.

No one wrote me.”

The same label that celebrated him in music videos turned their back when the spotlight faded.

He wasn’t marketable anymore.

His sound wasn’t radio-friendly.

So he was tossed.

No tour.

No residuals.

Just silence.

When DJ Self posted the now-viral video of Rob in a hospital bed, fans were stunned.

The man behind Whoa was barely recognizable, his voice weak, his spirit dimmed.

Yet in his final moments, he didn’t complain.

He paid tribute to DMX.

He still gave love.

But only days later, Rob was gone.

DMX died on April 9th, 2021.

Black Rob followed on April 17th, 2021.

Just eight days apart.

Both men in their early 50s.

Both connected to labels that profited from their pain.

Both victims of a system that turned its back the moment they stopped generating millions.

And both — left behind.

But was it just tragedy? Or something deeper?

Why were their interviews deleted? Why were their confessions ignored? Why did DMX, at the peak of his career, suddenly spiral into a pattern of arrests, mental health struggles, and mysterious rehab visits —

many of them in remote centers known more for sensory deprivation than healing?

Why did Black Rob, despite writing and recording for one of the richest moguls in hip-hop, end up homeless, begging for meds? Why was his music pulled from streaming platforms at a time when every penny

mattered?

These aren’t conspiracy theories.

These are questions.

And we may never get full answers.

But the pattern is too familiar.

Artists who speak out — disappear.

Or die.

Prince.

Michael.

Whitney.

Prodigy.

DMX.

Black Rob.

They all tried to tell us.

And most were ridiculed, called crazy, or forgotten.

But if you really listen to their words, you hear a warning.

DMX warned us the devil was in the industry — and not just metaphorically.

Black Rob showed us what happens when you stop being useful to the machine.

And now, their stories — their truth — are more important than ever.

These weren’t overdoses or random heart attacks.

These were ticking clocks.

Men set up to fail by a business that profits off pain and discards its messengers.

So where does that leave us?

Do we dismiss it all as bad luck?

Or do we finally admit that maybe, just maybe, they were telling the truth?

Maybe they did see what we’re not allowed to.

Maybe these deleted interviews were deleted for a reason.

And maybe… they were trying to save the next generation before it’s too late.

But most people won’t listen until the next DMX or the next Black Rob is gone.

And by then, it’s always too late.