Tragedy struck South Los Angeles on Halloween night with a chilling reminder of the violence that still haunts our streets.
According to Breitbart, on October 31, 2025, Jabari Henley, a former rapper and son of a notorious gang figure, was gunned down outside his own smoke shop in a brazen attack that left the community reeling.
The incident unfolded around 11 p.m. at the intersection of 69th Street and Figueroa Street, a corner that now bears the weight of a grim headline.
According to the Los Angeles Police Department, Henley approached a vehicle when, without warning, gunfire erupted from inside. The assailants, whose identities remain unknown, fled the scene immediately after unleashing their deadly barrage, leaving Henley fatally wounded. Police described the victim as a 34-year-old Black male, though subsequent reports confirmed his identity as Jabari Henley, tying him to a controversial family legacy.
Henley’s father, Eugene “Big U” Henley, is no stranger to infamy, leading the Rolling 60’s Neighborhood Crips and earning the moniker “godfather of rap” for managing artists like Nipsey Hussle. But “Big U” isn’t just a music executive; he’s been linked to serious crimes, including allegations of extorting “protection fees” from celebrities daring to step into Crips territory.
A federal affidavit paints a damning picture, stating, “While Henley and other supporters attempt to persuade the public that the ‘check in’ provides safety and security for those who do so, as set forth herein, he and the Big U Enterprise also manufacture the very danger they purport to protect against.”
Let’s unpack that quote: it suggests a racket where fear is both the product and the currency, a cycle of intimidation that keeps the powerful protected and the vulnerable paying.
“Big U” has faced charges of kidnapping and robbery, and though uncharged, was implicated in the 2021 murder of rapper Rayshawn Williams—a shadow that looms large over this latest tragedy.
Meanwhile, the LAPD remains tight-lipped, refusing to speculate on whether Jabari’s shooting ties into gang activity, leaving us to wonder if this is just another chapter in a bloody saga.
Another police statement offers a clinical recounting: “The victim, described as a 34-year-old Black male, walked up to the suspect vehicle when an unknown suspect or suspects shot at him,” as noted by the LAPD on November 7, 2025.
That’s all well and good, but the lack of detail does little to quell the unease in South L.A., where residents deserve answers, not just descriptions, about why violence keeps claiming lives.
While the left might rush to frame this as a systemic issue needing more social programs, let’s not ignore personal responsibility and the cultural undercurrents glorifying gang life—yet, our hearts still ache for a son lost to senseless gunfire.
Jabari wasn’t the only Henley in the spotlight; his brother Daiyan plays for the L.A. Chargers, a stark contrast to the street life that seems to have ensnared their family. As we mourn Jabari’s death, it’s hard not to question how much of this violence stems from a legacy of crime that’s been allowed to fester under the guise of “community protection.”
This Halloween horror story isn’t just a headline—it’s a call to rethink how we address the cycles of violence and influence that trap too many young men, while praying for justice in a city too familiar with grief.