The Playboy article features a bombshell
from Jose Torres, detailing Mike Tyson's
barbaric behavior towards Robin Givens,
saying that the best punch Tyson
ever threw was at his now ex-wife.
So much for watching Carson tonight.
This is bullshit, Don. That's bullshit.
How can they say these things about me?
All they do is fucking lie about me.
Listen. Hey, hey, hey.
- Champ, champ, hey. - Get off me, Don.
- They're fucking lying about me. - Breathe, breathe, breathe.
Just breathe, right? What did they tell you,
in through your nose, out through your mouth?
Just breathe.
Yeah, just like you in the ring, now, just breathe.
Now, you need to relax. Now, remember, now, you home.
You at your house. You at your castle.
You free here.
It okay. You'll be all right.
They can't beat you, all right?
Yeah.
I'ma take care of you, all right, champ?
- Yeah. - All right?
- Yeah. - All right.
What do you see? Who you see?
- It's Don. - You see Don, right?
- Yes, Don. -
Don King.
- Listen, listen, listen.
I was on top of the world.
Rich, heavyweight champion.
Did whatever the fuck I wanted.
Till I sat there for that Barbara Walters interview.
I didn't have any control.
It didn't matter how many times I won or...
how big my muscles were.
Robin beat me,
and she did it in front of a national audience.
After all that happened,
there were only two things that got me through it:
Don King...
- and this video game. - Oh-ho-ho!
Nowadays, you see niggas' faces
all over video games, but back then,
it was major for a Black man to be the face of one.
You guys wanna talk about power?
Back then, I had the power.
Yeah!
Mr. Tyson, so good to see you again.
How can we help you today?
You know, I just wonder, how you guys
get all the cars out of here?
That big window right there, it's like a door.
We open it, drive the cars right in.
That's pretty sweet.
We'll take all of them.
Oh! Uh, "we"?
Ay, this shit come in turquoise?
Yo, that's my mama's favorite color.
You guys got a turquoise one?
I will look into that right away.
After I knocked out Spinks in the first round...
I figured I owed you guys a bit of a show with the Bruno fight.
I baptize you in the name of the Father,
the Son, and the Holy Ghost.
Tyson! Oh, Tyson!
I'm sorry, Mr. Tyson, we never put
a hot tub in a limousine before.
I'm not even sure we could--
Give me a few days.
We'll be back tomorrow.
Okay.
Any of you ladies ever take a champagne bath before?
-♪ I'm talkin' no-man's-land ♪ -
- ♪ I'm a bad man ♪
I did some crazy shit back then.
Hell, I even reburied my mother.
Take all the time you need, son.
Uh, Mr. Tyson, I was wondering if I could--
Yeah, sure.
Thanks.
What'd you used to call me?
A low-life thief?
Piece of shit?
Wasn't I supposed to spend all my days in jail?
You remember that, Mommy?
Now look.
You're gonna spend all your days in a box that I put you in,
that I paid for.
Hmm.
No one's just one thing.
We're all a bunch of things.
Now, sometimes that thing we are,
at any particular point in time, isn't that great.
But it's not all we are.
We can be more if we want to be.
Unless you're Don King.
Then you're just a slimy, cocksucking motherfucker.
But he was my slimy, cocksucking motherfucker.
The gun, he carried that because he thought
bodyguards made him look like a thug.
Before him, promoters looked and sounded a certain way.
Don came and flipped the script.
Y'all brothers stayin' out of trouble?
- Oh, yeah. - Yeah, brother.
All right, now, be easy, now.
Don spoke like a preacher
and thought like a grandmaster.
Hey, hey, Don.
People knew who he was.
He knew he was meant for greatness.
He used tell me about how he was one
of the biggest number runners in Cleveland,
making thousands of dollars a day.
Sam!
Don saw himself as a businessman,
a respected businessman.
But if you made the mistake of disrespecting him?
-♪ Keep your big mouth shut ♪
- Where's my money, Sam? - I promise, Don!
I'm gonna pay you.
You just gotta give me a little more time!
You want time, get a watch.
Sam Garrett was his name.
He died that night.
And Don's ass went straight to prison.
But he didn't serve time. More like time served Don.
Don was always trying to sharpen his mind.
He read all kinds of books:
Frederick Douglass, Shakespeare, Voltaire,
Martin Luther King, Marx, and Hitler.
When he was coming up for parole,
he pulled some slick deal, used his connections
to acquire 40 acres of land, which eventually became...
My 30-room mansion, complete with swimming pool,
gym, cattle, and, of course...
Cus wanted me to be the best,
and I was desperate to make him proud.
But Don, he didn't give a shit about excellence.
All he cared about was money.
So that's all I cared about.
I didn't know how the world works,
not really.
And Cus taught me how to box.
But he couldn't teach me how to be a Black man in America.
But Don could.
Saying that the best punch
Tyson ever threw was at his now ex-wife.
Ah, shit, you already saw my drunk ass do this shit.
- Who you see? - It's Don.
- You see Don, right? - Yes, Don.
- (laughs) All right, now. - Yeah. Yeah.
Go upstairs and get you some rest.
Yeah.
Tomorrow I want you to take me to Playboy
so I can beat the shit out those motherfuckers.
It's Playboy, champ.
A white boy's wet dream disguised as journalism.
You're the heavyweight champion of the world--
young, rich, and Black:
the most feared three words to white America.
You know why? Because you're free.
You earned the same freedom they enjoy and take for granted.
And every time they see a wealthy,
free Black man, it reminds them of the truth,
of what they did,
what they continue to do with us every single day.
Nah,
white folks'll never pay for the truth,
because then they'd have to reckon with what they did.
But they will pay for a show.
Top dollar.
So they'll pay to see Jordan drop a triple double
or Michael moonwalk or you dominate in the ring.
Because as long as they're watching that,
as long as they see a few of you
with money and freedom,
they won't have to think about the ones that don't.
And it makes them feel good when they go to sleep at night.
But the minute you get too big, they gotta cut you down.
They gotta make you out to be some kind of monster,
because they can't afford to see you as I see you.
A king.
Don't be their monster.
Be our king.
With Cus gone, Don was the only father figure I had.
He had set up the Buster Douglas fight.
He hyped it all up.
Team Tyson was going to Tokyo.
It was a huge deal.
See that fat fuck over there?
Easiest money we ever made.
Don and I were raking it in.
Toyota commercials.
Tyson power!
There was even talk of me having a match
with Hulk Hogan.
I thought it was a big win for me and Don.
Everybody wanted a piece.
Well, everyone except...
No, no no, put the recliner over there.
My sister, Denise...
I loved spending time with her.
You know what? Mm-mm.
I think we got the wrong one, mm-hmm.
Take it back.
Except for when she was bein' a bitch.
I'm just--I'm just--
Why you still got your sunglasses on? We inside.
Well, you know, they're so expensive,
I just didn't wanna lose them, you know?
Take 'em off.
You know you can duck every now and then, right?
What the hell are those trainers even for?
- Nisey. - Ah, I know you didn't put
your sweaty-ass body all over my new clothes.
Nisey.
Oh, I loved my sister.
But once I became champion,
I didn't have the chance to see her as much.
So I came back home and took her out
to show her what kind of life I was living now.
Nigga, you late?
All the money you got and you can't afford a watch.
Nisey, get in.
Who you yelling at like that?
I ain't like those boys you play with in the playground.
I'll cut you!
Denise was always checking me in public.
Trying to make me look like a little bitch.
Mike. Mike!
I'm ready to go.
What? I like pouring drinks on bitches too.
Mike, I do not like it here. Take me home.
- What? - Now.
What does that flashy house nigga even do for you?
Who, Don?
He's my promoter.
A promoter that controls all your shit.
What are you talking about?
I call your phone,
that nigga picks up.
I get a birthday card, from you,
that nigga signed 'em.
How do you even--
'Cause your handwriting is sloppy as shit, Mike!
You keep talkin' about how much money you got,
but from where I was sitting,
lookin' up at that shuckin'-and jivin'-ass nigga
in VIP,
he's the one with all the power...
- You don't know shit. - Not you.
You don't know shit.
- Oh, yeah? - Yeah.
You even know how much money you got?
When's the last time you signed a check?
You're so rich.
You got all these fancy-ass cars.
When's the last time you signed your name
on a motherfucking check, Mike?
That's his job, Nisey.
I pay him to manage my money.
Oh, so I bet he tucks you in at night too, huh?
Whatever, you don't get it.
All this shit-- the money,
the ugly-ass girls
you probably fuck in this small-ass car--
- none of it's real. - Leave it alone, Nisey.
You wanna be naive and let these niggas
take advantage of you,
be my guest.
I'm just tellin' you, this shit ain't real.
Real?
You wanna know what's real?
I make more money in a fuckin' day than you make in a year.
That's what's real.
My real life probably feels like a fuckin' dream to you.
They build niggas like you up...
Suck you dry, then tear you down.
That's how it works.
Everybody knows it.
'Cept you.
All she ever wanted was to protect me.
She didn't care how it sounded
or how it made me feel afterwards.
She just loved me.
Yeah.
I just wish I could've stayed longer.
But I had work to do.
The Buster Douglas fight had arrived.
I guess with all the shit going on,
it wasn't my top priority.
Besides, I couldn't lose.
Literally, I hadn't lost one single fight
since I turned pro, not one.
Champ, how are you, son?
I'm good.
How's your room?
I told them to give you the one with the best view.
It's not as nice as this, but it's okay.
My man, my man.
What can I do you for?
I wanna talk about my money.
Now, this ain't about the yacht again.
No, no, it--it's just...
Joseph, give us a minute.
- What is it, champ?
How much money do I have?
Whatch you mean? A lot.
I mean how much money do I have, like the number.
I wanna know the number.
Pshh. You're rich, Mike.
Goddamn wealthy.
You one of the richest motherfuckers in the world.
I wanna see it.
We can't just walk into the bank and ask them
to lay hundreds of millions of dollars on the table.
Why the hell not? Got something to hide?
Hide what, champ?
This funny to you?
Think this is a fucking game, Don?
No, I don't.
But look around, champ. I'm the only one left.
They all took what they wanted and got the fuck out of Dodge.
Now, I'm here because I care about you.
It's my job to make sure that everybody sees your face.
You're the greatest boxer in the world.
I'ma put your face on lunch boxes,
soda cans,
and video games.
Mike Tyson Punch-Out
for the Nintendo Entertainment System in stores now.
Now,
what you should be focusing on is that Douglas fight.
Guy's a tomato can. He's easy.
Mitch Green's better than him.
I whupped his ass twice.
Okay, champ, okay.
But maybe we could train a little bit, right?
Get a little cardio in.
To be honest, I wasn't focused on the fight.
I wasn't training, and I was out of shape.
That's probably why--
Step back. Step back. Step back.
-♪ Tell me ♪ - Four...
- Five... -♪ Keep me guessing ♪
Six...
-♪ It's not fair ♪ - Seven.
- ♪ Oh, tell me ♪
Son, look at me.
All right?
It's okay. I got you.
All right?
We're gonna get you a rematch,
and we're gonna get your belt back.
All right? I promise. Trust me.
SINGER ♪ Could tell me ♪
When you're young and you don't have
a relationship with your father...
whether you realize it or not,
you go around searching for someone else
to fill that space.
You'll do whatever they say
just because you wanna make them proud.
And you trust them because
you're supposed to trust your dad, right?
But what you don't realize is,
they're not your dad.
They're just some guy trying to make a buck.
Trustin' Don King was one
of the biggest mistakes of my life.
Not preparing for that Buster Douglas fight
was the other.
That belt meant everything to me.
Without it, who was I?
Uncle Mike,
you sure it's a good idea to buy me a Nintendo?
My mom did say I was on punishment.
Hey, what's my name?
Uh, Uncle Mike.
No, no, yeah, but what's my name?
Oh, Mike Tyson.
And what is it that I do?
Knock niggas the fuck out.
Precisely, but what'd I tell you about that?
But yes, if I wanna buy my nephew
a Nintendo, that's what I'm gonna do.
Think I'm scared of your mother?
Yeah.
- I got you.
Hey, Uncle Mike, you think you can buy me
your boxing game?
I wanna play as you.
Hey, I'm the boss.
You can't play as me. You gotta try to beat me.
- Oh, I can beat you. - Oh, yeah?
Yeah?
You're--you're Mike Tyson.
Shh.
Don't tell nobody.
You got a Nintendo?
- Want one? - Yes!
I'll see what I can do, come on.
Oh, you're-- you're Mike Tyson!
Yeah.
Yo, can I get a autograph, man?
That depends.
How many of these Nintendos you guys got here?
- Oh-- - I'll take all of them.
And throw a copy
of Mike Tyson's Punch-Out in there too.
Oh... you don't know?
Don't know what?
They took me off the cover,
replaced me with some white guy named Mr. Dream.
But the truth is,
the name Mike Tyson didn't mean shit
until I started beating people.
I whup somebody's ass, they pay me for it.
I fuck my life up, turn it into a Broadway show,
you guys pay me for it.
Every car, every house,
video game with my face on it,
I thought it meant I had power,
that I mattered, that a Black man mattered.
But then I lost my belt.
Mr. fuckin' Dream took everything away.
11 days later, I lost my sister.
- Aw! - Yeah.
Never got to see Nisey again,
tell her I love her.
If I wasn't the champ, who the fuck was I?
I thought I hit rock bottom.
But little did I know,
shit was about to get worse.
Captioned by Captionmax