Sean 'Puffy' Combs at Metropolitan Museum of Art Goddess Gala, NY 4/28/2003

Quick summary:

This week, hip-hop mainstay and record executive Sean “Diddy” Combs was indicted on charges of racketeering, human trafficking and interstate transportation for prostitution, with allegations of violence and abuse dating back to 2008. This case harkens back to another hip-hop figure’s downfall, Grammy Award-winning singer R. Kelly, who is currently serving a 30-year sentence for racketeering and sex trafficking. In this newsletter, we focus on the latest reckoning in hip-hop, featuring previous reporting on Diddy from URL Media partners, Parlé Magazine, TANTV Studios, Our Body Politic and more.

It’s been a strange week for the culture, and personally, I didn’t see Monday’s arrest and the next day’s indictment of Diddy coming. But here we are forced to reckon with another fallen hero in hip-hop, a culture that a Bronx kid like myself, and radio host and media personality Charlamagne Tha God, liken to a “weird sense of grief” because “… another one of our heroes has ruined their legacy, and it’s all [their] fault.”

Diddy and his various nicknames — P. Diddy, Puff Daddy, Puffy, Puff — were ubiquitous throughout the ’90s and ’00s. If I wasn’t hearing him order castmates of MTV’s “Making The Band” to walk to Brooklyn to get him cheesecake, I was seeing velour jumpsuits from Diddy’s apparel line, Sean John, in stores like Jimmy Jazz and Macy’s, and seeing him on the red carpet with then-girlfriend J.Lo, who famously sported a belly shirt and bandana headband at MTV’s 2000 VMA Awards (back when people watched the VMAs). 

Let’s not forget this is the man who discovered and cultivated some of the greatest musicians in hip-hop and R&B royalty: Brooklyn’s own Notorious B.I.G., Mary J. Blige, Usher, and the countless acts who helped shape the genre during that era under the Bad Boy empire, including 112, Mase, Shyne, Lil’ Kim, Loon, Faith Evans and more. Diddy was everywhere and on everyone’s lips, even getting called out by Suge Knight, the co-founder and former CEO of Death Row Records, the rival of Diddy’s Bad Boy Records and the label home of Tupac, during the 1995 Source Awards. On stage that night, Suge appealed to upcoming artists to join his label and famously called out Diddy, claiming his own label’s artists wouldn’t have to worry about their producer being “all up in the videos…” The claims ratcheted up the era’s East Coast versus West Coast hip-hop rivalry.

There’s no denying that Diddy’s influence on the culture is unmatched. Still, after this week’s federal charges — following a timeline of key moments leading to the record executive’s arrest in New York — his reputation and legacy are forever tarnished. In the scathing 14-page indictment, USA v. Sean Combs, we learn that the defendant, Diddy, is accused of running a criminal enterprise that engaged in illegal activities like drug trafficking, prostitution and racketeering using violence, manipulation and coercion “to fulfill his sexual desires, protect his reputation and conceal his conduct.”

Plus: Diddy seen assaulting Cassie in viral surveillance video (Parlé Magazine)

How did we get here? 

Some probably saw this coming.

Months before the indictment, the world watched in horror as Diddy chased his former girlfriend, “Me & U” singer Cassie, down a hallway in a towel as she tried to escape his wrath. Just before she could board an elevator, wearing an oversized hoodie and dark shades, Diddy caught up to her, throwing her to the floor, kicking and stomping her before dragging her seemingly lifeless body back to a hotel room. He later apologized for the 2016 incident in a video, after reportedly paying hotel security $50,000 to erase the footage. 

When the video was released, the internet erupted, with celebrities and spectators taking to social media to express their outrage echoing #NoDiddy, as highlighted by Parlé Magazine

“It’s so difficult to reflect on the darkest times in your life, but sometimes you’ve got to do that,” Diddy said in the apology, also adding that he was disgusted by what he did at the time and now.

Some of his peers, like artist 50 Cent, mocked him, and controversial pop and house artist Azealia Banks claimed the accusations were true. Many viewers also pointed out that Diddy failed to name his former partner and victim in the apology — the same partner he invoked in his acceptance speech for The Lifetime Achievement Award at BET just one year prior.

The fallout from the video continued as it affected Diddy’s achievements associated with his artistry. TANTV Studios reported that his former college, Howard University in Washington, D.C., rescinded the alum’s 2014 honorary degree and cut off financial ties with the mogul, including disbanding a scholarship in his name.

A similar incident occurred when NYC Mayor Eric Adams asked Diddy to return the key to the city he was given last September. He returned it this June.

Plus: A love letter to hip-hop: How women shaped the first 50 years (Our Body Politic)

While reflecting on the long-standing impact of hip-hop as a culture and way of life, artist manager Rani uttered this truth in a 2023 episode of Our Body Politic commemorating the genre’s 50th birthday. 

“… Something that we really need to reckon with, which is happening right now, is the way that we treat women in Hip Hop. It’s a reckoning of ourselves because the music only reflects what’s happening in the world and it’s a great indicator of where we are in the world.” 

Rani’s message to listeners aired one month after Cassie filed a $30M lawsuit against her former boss, under the Adult Survivors Act, a New York law that gives victims of sexual abuse, who were 18 or older at the time of the alleged abuse, a one-year window to bring cases in New York after any statutes of limitations have expired. 

“After years in silence and darkness, I am finally ready to tell my story, and to speak up on behalf of myself and for the benefit of other women who face violence and abuse in their relationships,” she said in a statement to NBC News.

In the suit, she alleged that Diddy had subjected her to a decade of chaos and destruction after meeting him at 19, when he lured her into a lifestyle of excessive alcohol and substance abuse using his fame and fortune — and the loyalty of those close to him — to keep her subservient, according to the lawsuit. The allegations included but were not limited to physical abuse, rape, forced sex acts with other male sex workers, demands that she carry his firearm in her purse and procure prescriptions for him under her name, as well an incident involving the blowing up of the car of a man who had supposedly been in a previous relationship with Cassie, according to the filings. 

The singer said she suffered from alcohol addiction and suicidal ideation during their relationship. She eventually left him in 2018. 

Within a day of the suit, Cassie and Diddy settled for an undisclosed amount.

More: The reasons why survivors of domestic violence don’t “just leave” (Luz Media)

Hip-hop has long had a complicated relationship with women and is often criticized for its objectification and misogyny in lyrics and music videos. A striking example can be found in Nelly’s 2003 “Tip Drill,” which featured both sexually explicit lyrics and a music video with a scene showing a man swiping a credit card down a woman’s backside. It stirred controversy among Black college women who protested the imagery

There are countless other videos in hip-hop’s archival history where women have been reduced to background eye candy (e.g., Dr. Dre’s “Nuthin’ but a ‘G’ Thang”) and serve as nothing more than props and commodities in a historically male-dominant industry. Many of these criticisms came to light for me as a high school senior watching Byron Hurt’s documentary “Hip-Hop: Beyond Beats & Rhymes,” where the director’s activism in gender issues and love for hip-hop led him to feel a sense of hypocrisy, motivating him to explore themes of masculinity, violence and sexism in the film.

Hip-hop fans have long grappled with the genre’s misogynistic lyrics and imagery, but in recent years they’ve also been confronted with knowledge of the torment and abuse endured by victims of powerful men and executives like Diddy and R. Kelly — another influential figure in the culture. R. Kelly, a Chicago-born multi-instrumentalist who rose from poverty, had been heralded as a musical genius for decades. After all, he was responsible for the inspirational ballad “I Believe I Can Fly,” a song played at my sixth-grade graduation and the soundtrack to my beloved childhood favorite, the 1996 film “Space Jam.” 

In Netflix’s “Surviving R. Kelly,” and in the courtroom, dozens of women came forward to shed light on his decades-long crimes. Similar to Cassie’s lawsuit against Diddy, these accounts involve luring young, impressionable women into their world, often grooming and sexually exploiting them while promising careers in the entertainment industry. In the 2022 documentary, one survivor details her escape from a hotel room where she had been closely monitored by R. Kelly’s entourage, after briefly communicating with her mother, who was on the hotel grounds and helped plan her escape.

Since these controversies emerged, both men have faced significant financial losses. 

The former #MuteRKelly movement effectively attached R. Kelly and his discography as one entity, encouraging listeners to boycotthis music even before his convictions. Meanwhile, with Diddy awaiting trial after being denied bail on Tuesday, he has sold the majority of his stake in the media company he founded, Revolt TV, and is reportedly selling his Los Angeles mansion for roughly $61M after it was raided this past March. 

The conversation doesn’t end here. It’s just beginning. 


What are your thoughts on the Diddy case? Do you think fans will turn away from his music? Let us know at editor@url-media.com.

Ariam Alula (how to say it) is URL Media’s first audience manager. She works closely with URL Media’s Editorial Director and leads the network’s social and newsletter content while further developing and executing the brand’s strategic audience goals. Alula who was born and raised in The Bronx had this to say about her work upon joining the network in the fall of 2022.

“I'm committed to helping our audience understand how issues in their own backyard impact other BIPOC communities. Also, I believe that our network's content amplification and original reporting should fully reflect and affirm the customs and cultural norms of our multicultural, multidisciplinary, and geographically diverse audiences. As BIPOC communities have and continue to be grossly misrepresented by the mainstream media, this part of the work can’t be overstated. Also growing up as a child of immigrants, community is an integral part of my identity, and it's something I bring to URL Media every day.”

Before joining the network, Alula sharpened her range of skills and interests in newsletter curation and editing, audience strategy and research, and measuring and tracking impact. In recent years Alula has worked for many organizations in the journalism support space, such as Coda Story while based in the Republic of Georgia and U.S.-based organizations like the Institute for Nonprofit News, the Public Square Team at Democracy Fund, Online News Association and Women Do News. She has also written for the American Press Institute’s Need to Know newsletter.

Alula is also a proud graduate of the engagement journalism program at the Craig Newmark Journalism School at the City University of New York, where she spent 16 long, insightful and experimental months working with family caregivers of people with autism in New York City.