🕶️‘That Fat Dude Can RAP!’: Snoop Admits Shock at Biggie’s Skills in 1993 Freestyle with Pac 😱

The year was 1993. Hip-hop was still finding its place in mainstream culture, but its stars were already rising—fast. On the West Coast, Snoop Dogg and Tupac Shakur were becoming

cultural forces. From Brooklyn, a then-unknown Christopher Wallace, aka The Notorious B.I.G., was starting to buzz.

And then… it happened.

One night in Hollywood, at a low-key show with no press and no PR spin, Tupac brought Biggie to L.A.. Just to rap. Just to build. Just to vibe.

On The Joe Rogan Experience, Snoop Dogg recalled the night vividly:

“We was in Hollywood somewhere… Pac brought Biggie out. Warren G was there. We was just on stage rapping and freestyling. That [__] was hard.”

Snoop admits he didn’t even recognize Biggie at first.

“We looking like, who this fat [__] rapper? But then he opened his mouth—and everybody shut up.”

The crowd, the emcees, even Snoop himself—all stunned.

Biggie wasn’t signed. He wasn’t rich. He wasn’t a household name. But that night, he earned his crown.

“When the words came out of his mouth,” Snoop says, “[] was like, oh [], he hard as [__].”

And then the clip surfaced—a rare, nearly lost piece of hip-hop history.

A YouTube video titled “Tupac and Biggie on Stage 1993 (Rare)” sat at just 4,612 views. Snoop, with a mix of disbelief and pride, told Joe Rogan:

“People don’t even know that exists. You just gave them some exclusive [__].”

Joe watched, stunned. The screen flickered with grainy footage: young Pac, young Big, young Snoop—no entourages, no tension, just bars.

“This is my favorite,” Snoop said, smiling as he watched Biggie freestyling on a Brooklyn corner at just 17. “Imagine being out there and seeing a kid spit like that. You’d

know—it’s over.”

And that’s what it felt like. The future was standing right there—onstage.

But Snoop isn’t just looking back to reminisce. He’s remembering the exact moment when it all went sideways.

“It went bad after Pac got shot in New York,” he says solemnly. “That changed everything.”

Tupac believed he was betrayed. Not by strangers, but by friends. Biggie and Puffy were on his suspect list, whether they deserved to be or not. And Death Row, freshly having posted

Pac’s $1.4 million bail, was quick to fuel the fire.

“By him being bailed out by Death Row… we added more gasoline,” Snoop confesses.

It wasn’t just music anymore. It was war.

Joe Rogan, watching it all unfold in real-time, asked the obvious question:

“Could this have been avoided?”

Snoop, eyes heavy, nodded:

“In hindsight, we should’ve sat him down. Said, ‘Don’t go after them. Let’s make music.’ But instead… we fed into it.”

Snoop admits Pac wasn’t even a free man—he was out on bail when he was gunned down in Vegas.

And maybe that’s why that night in ‘93 hits even harder now.

Because back then, it was all love.

Snoop, Pac, Biggie—same age. Same dream. Same stage.

“We was all 22,” Snoop says. “We were just kids. We were competitive. But we respected each other.”

Watching the footage, you feel it. Biggie isn’t a rival. He’s a guest. Tupac isn’t paranoid. He’s proud. Snoop isn’t jaded. He’s just soaking in the moment.

“That was before I caught a case,” Snoop notes, looking at his body language in the clip. “I was free, man. We all were.”

But freedom didn’t last.

Within three years, Tupac was dead. Six months later, Biggie was murdered. And hip-hop’s golden generation—was shattered.

“We let the streets, the politics, the business—all of it—turn us against each other,” Snoop reflects. “And we lost two of the greatest because of it.”

Now, decades later, that grainy video—the one with just a few thousand views—is our only real glimpse of what could have been.

Before the disses.

Before the threats.

Before the funerals.

There was peace.

One stage.

One mic.

And three young legends trying to out-rap each other, not outgun each other.

As Joe Rogan says:

“That was real hip-hop. That was pure.”

And maybe that’s the greatest tragedy of all—that we lost it before we even realized what it was.

Rest in power, Tupac. Rest in power, Biggie.

And salute to Snoop—for remembering the night they were all just kids with bars, not bodies.