💥 “It Was a SETUP!” Gene Deal Breaks 20-Year Silence on Biggie’s Murder—Shocking Truth Exposed! 😱

March 9, 1997.

The night that changed hip-hop forever.

Christopher Wallace, a.k.a.

Biggie Smalls, was leaving an afterparty at the Peterson Automotive Museum in Los Angeles.

Just hours earlier, he was smiling for cameras, greeting fans, enjoying the spotlight.

But by 1:15 a.m.

, he was pronounced dead from a gunshot wound that tore through the SUV he was riding in.

For decades, we were told it was a drive-by.

Random.

Tragic.

Unsolved.

But Gene Deal, Biggie’s former security guard, says that entire narrative is a lie.

Deal wasn’t just a bystander that night—he was working security for Diddy, and was stationed just feet away from Biggie when the shots rang out.

And now, after two decades of silence, he’s finally telling the world what really happened.

According to Deal, the shooter wasn’t driving by.

The car was already there.

Parked.

Waiting.

Watching.

This wasn’t a chaotic hit-and-run—it was an ambush.

A setup with one clear goal: kill Biggie Smalls.

What Gene reveals is chilling: the shooter’s car was positioned long before Biggie’s SUV ever rolled up to the light on Wilshire Boulevard.

Deal insists the car was parked, idling, ready to execute the plan.

And if he’s right, this completely destroys the mainstream version of the murder we’ve accepted for over 20 years.

Even worse, Gene says he felt something was off before they even got to the venue.

“Somebody’s going to die tonight,” he reportedly told a colleague.

That wasn’t paranoia—it was instinct.

Trained for high-risk environments, Deal recognized the signs: bad energy, broken protocol, and last-minute changes that didn’t make sense.

He wasn’t assigned directly to Biggie that night—he was guarding Diddy.

But when the bullets flew, he ran toward the chaos.

What he saw changed him forever.

Biggie was slumped over, bleeding in the passenger seat of a rented Suburban.

Gene tried to pull him out.

He was too late.

“I saw this kid lose his life,” Deal said.

“He died while I was pulling him out of the car.

” The pain of that moment still haunts him.

For 20 years, he kept quiet, partly out of grief—and partly out of fear.

But what pushed him to speak now? According to Deal, it was the growing pile of lies.

He watched documentaries, reenactments, and Hollywood biopics all retell the same false narrative.

They all showed a drive-by.

None mentioned the stationary car.

None acknowledged the security gaps or the strange decisions made that night.

And none included the voice of someone who was actually there.

Gene Deal says the official story isn’t just wrong—it’s intentionally misleading.

He believes someone inside the circle had advanced knowledge of what was about to happen.

And while he doesn’t name names, he makes it clear: the decisions that led to Biggie’s death weren’t random.

Someone pulled the strings.

Why wasn’t Biggie properly protected? Why were the SUV placements altered at the last minute? Why was the vehicle he was riding in exposed at the light, with no defensive formation around it? Gene has asked

those questions for 20 years.

And no one—not the LAPD, not the FBI, not the documentaries—has answered them.

Deal contrasts Biggie’s protection to Diddy’s.

That night, Gene was guarding Diddy, and he says he did everything in his power to protect his client.

“It wasn’t Puff,” he said, “because I did my job.

” But when he looked over, Biggie was dying.

“The people bodyguarding Big didn’t do everything in their power to stop it,” he says.

“And that hurts me.”

That simple statement cuts deeper than any conspiracy theory.

It’s not just that Biggie died—it’s that his death may have been preventable.

Gene isn’t pushing wild accusations.

He’s laying out facts that the media has ignored and the public has never fully understood.

And he’s asking the one question we all should be asking: If Biggie’s death wasn’t random, then who planned it? And why?

Even more disturbing is Gene’s belief that the shooter’s car was likely parked at that corner all night.

If true, that raises the stakes exponentially.

This wasn’t a moment of opportunity.

It was a coordinated execution—one that required knowledge of routes, timing, and vulnerabilities in the security setup.

Deal isn’t just challenging a media narrative—he’s challenging a cover-up.

For 20 years, the public has mourned Biggie without ever understanding what really happened.

Murals, tributes, anniversary specials—all built on an incomplete and possibly manipulated foundation.

“I walk into restaurants and hear Biggie’s music,” Gene said.

“They’ve got murals of him.

And they’re all celebrating a lie.”

The emotional toll of staying silent nearly broke him.

“If I didn’t have God in my life,” Gene admitted, “I don’t know if I could have handled it.

” Every year that passed, the official lie grew louder while his truth stayed buried.

Until now.

He doesn’t want sympathy.

He’s not selling drama.

He’s demanding accountability—or at least a reckoning.

The media told us this was a drive-by.

Gene Deal is telling us it was a hit.

And if we believe him, then everything we thought we knew about Biggie’s death is up for revision.

Gene’s account doesn’t solve the case, but it opens the door for real questions.

Why was there no justice? Who stood to gain from Biggie’s death? And who’s been protecting the truth for all these years?

After two decades of silence, Gene Deal finally confirmed the real story behind the death of Biggie Smalls.

And the world can no longer pretend this was just a random act of violence.

If Gene’s version is true, Biggie was set up, unprotected, and eliminated in a crime that was never meant to be solved.

The question now is: Who else knows the truth—and when will they start talking?