The opening chapter of Jeff Pearlman’s Only God Can Judge Me: The Many Lives of Tupac Shakur hits like a revelation. The book, out now, isn’t just a deep dive into one of Hip-Hop’s most complex icons, it’s a jaw-dropping journey that uncovers stories even the most devoted 2Pac fans never knew.
One of the most stunning discoveries comes straight from one of 2Pac’s most haunting songs, “Brenda’s Got a Baby.” The 1991 track tells a gut-wrenching, tragic story about a 12-year-old girl who gives birth and abandons her child in the worst way. The song has long been known as a piece of art rooted in real tragedy. But few realized just how real it was.
The baby in that song? Still alive. The mother? Also alive. And Jeff Pearlman found them both.
In this exclusive conversation, Pearlman sits down to explain how he tracked down two unwitting but pivotal figures in Hip-Hop history—the real-life “Brenda” and her “baby”—and his relentless curiosity turned myth into human connection.
Pearlman speaks, as told to Chuck “Jigsaw” Creekmur
There’s a few things notable about this story—and we’ll get into them. But yeah, I started the book off with finding “Brenda’s baby”—in quotes—and then reuniting that person with his mother, Brenda.
Now, when people read that part, they often react the same way you did—they stop reading for a second, like, “Wait… what did I just read?”
And honestly, I get it. It’s crazy.
You said something interesting though—you called it my “white superpower.” I wouldn’t really call it that. I think it’s my Sports Illustrated background more than anything.
I started as a newspaper writer in Nashville. Then I went to Sports Illustrated. Back then, the whole idea at SI was go beyond. Gary Smith, who was one of the greats, used to always say, “Make the extra call. Make the extra call. Make the extra call.” That became part of how I think. Like, we’re all writing about the same athletes, LeBron, for example. The difference between a good LeBron story and a great one? You make that extra call.
So with 2Pac, I’ve always loved “Brenda’s Got a Baby.” I wouldn’t say it’s one of his 10 best songs. It’s kind of literal, kind of early in his career, not the best production. But the idea of it—that grabbed me.
I’d seen an old interview where Omar Epps said ‘Pac read about the story in a newspaper. So I thought, “I’m gonna find that article.”
Didn’t take long. It was called “Cries in the Night,” published in the New York Daily News in 1991 by a reporter named Linda something. It was about a 12-year-old girl in the Noble Drew Ali housing development in Brooklyn. She was raped by her cousin, gave birth on the bathroom floor, put the baby in an Odd Job plastic bag and dropped him down the trash chute. The maintenance guy heard crying, found the baby and saved him.
That was it. That’s the story ‘Pac turned into “Brenda’s Got a Baby.”
So I called my friend from high school, a genealogist named Michelle. She’s a total wizard. I said, “You think we could find this person?” She goes, “That’s a hard one, but give me a few days.”
A few days later she calls: “I think I have contact info.”
She gives me a number. Nobody answers phones anymore, so I text. And it’s like the crudest, most awkward text ever. Something like, “Hey, my name’s Jeff Pearlman, I’m a writer, working on a 2Pac book. By any chance, is this you?”–and I attach a photo of the article.
Not my finest text moment.
But he writes back: “Holy crap. Let’s talk tomorrow.”
So the next day we talk. He lives in Las Vegas. I drive out from Southern California. We meet at a Starbucks.
And sure enough, everything in that article happened to him. He’d been adopted. His adoptive parents moved him to Vegas. He knew a little about his background but not the full story.
After his parents died, he did an Ancestry.com search. Names started popping up—all connected to Brooklyn and the Noble Drew Ali projects. He reached out to a few people, and they were like, “Holy crap. Do you know who you are? Do you like 2Pac?”
He laughs and goes, “I like Biggie more. I’m from Brooklyn!”
I tell him, “You know 2Pac’s from New York too, right?”
He’s like, “Yeah, but I still like Biggie more.”
Then they tell him, “We think you’re the baby from ‘Brenda’s Got a Baby.’”
He flies to New York, meets the family and it’s this full-on Antwone Fisher moment. Hugging, crying, tears everywhere. He even showed me a photo of himself standing next to the trash chute where he’d been found. Unreal.
Then I ask him, “Have you had any contact with your mother?”
He says no. So I go back to Michelle. “You think we could find her?” She says it might be harder, but give her a few days.
Sure enough, a few days later, she finds her. She texts the woman, just trying to confirm. The woman calls back, and Michelle says, “I’m working with a writer named Jeff Pearlman. When you were 12 years old, did you give birth?”
And the woman just starts crying, “Do you know where my son is? Do you know where my son is?” She’s screaming, sobbing, saying she’s been looking for him for 20-something years.
Michelle says, “Yeah, we’re in contact with him.”
Then the woman says, “I live in Newark, but I’m away from home right now… for a Red Hot Chili Peppers concert.”
Michelle goes, “Where are they playing?”
The woman says, “Vegas.”
So they met that night. They reunited.
That was it. After 30 years, Brenda and her baby were together again…at a Red Hot Chili Peppers concert, of all places.
In 30 years of reporting, it’s hands down the craziest story of my life. And it’s all thanks to Michelle, the genealogist who made it happen.
And yeah, Brenda’s a Red Hot Chili Peppers fan. That’s one of my favorite details of the whole thing.
That’s what journalism is about to me, you go smaller and smaller until you find the human part. Everyone else might look at “Brenda’s Got a Baby” as a song, but I saw it as a door to a real person.
You just make that extra call.