“When you're a criminal, you're an addict,” says Ice-T, whose new book Split Decision is in stores today. The book chronicles Ice’s and Spike’s lives of crime, and how things changed once Ice became a superstar, and Spike was sentenced for his role in the robbery.

“You're addicted to the life, the game, fast money,” Ice-T continues. “When you're getting ready to get married, I ask you the same question. I say, ‘Are you done?’ Which means, ‘Are you done chasing bitches? Are you done fuckin’ other women? Are you done?’ If you're not done, you shouldn't get married. But when you decide to make those vows, that should be it. But with a criminal, same thing with a drug addict, ‘Are you done?’ Because no one can stop you from getting high. You have to want to.” 

By this point in 2016, Ice-T had helped several of his friends, providing a string of opportunities to people in his circle. With this experience, Ice knew that some people can walk away from crime, and that others can’t. That’s why he wanted to ask Spike that question, one that Ice leaned on when people came to him. 

“I asked that same question to Spike's cousin Rich when they had beat a charge earlier,” says Ice, who used to rob with Spike in the 1980s before he became a rap star. “They were facing 100 years. Rich told me, ‘Man, Ice, I will sell orange juice on the side of the street before I break the law. I can't disrespect myself like that.’ He was done. So I asked Spike the same question. I looked him in his face. I said, ‘So you done? Are you done testing the system? Do you have another lick up your sleeve?’ You don’t know. A lot of cats come from prison and they try to make up for those 25 years in 24 hours. But he was sincere. He said, ‘Ice, man. I'm done.’ He had totally changed. Spike was humble. I saw it, so I believed it to an extent ’cause, still, you’re out here. You gotta survive. I think I gave Spike maybe like $5,000, $10,000. We didn't give him no super bag. He still had to survive. He had to figure it out. It doesn't help for you to just give somebody a bunch of money cuz they're gonna run through it. They have to figure out how to actually survive and when that addiction starts biting, what their reaction is gonna be. Meaning, when I first started rapping, I went broke. A lick was an inch away. My friends were still active, but I had to fight through that time and suffer a little bit because I was trying to get out of the game. Same thing he's had to do.” 

 Split Decision details Ice-T’s and Spike’s perspective on Spike’s situation specifically, and a life of crime, in general. Spike takes accountability for his actions and details his surprise in getting paroled more than six years ago. 

In fact, when Spike was released and arrived back in Los Angeles, he didn’t reach out to Ice-T or anyone in their circle. He was too shocked that he was actually free. 

Spike was set up at a transitional housing location at 37th Street and Grand Avenue in South Los Angeles. After eating some food that upset his stomach (he couldn’t handle food on the outside, aka “street food”) and ending up in a medical clinic, Spike called Trome, his and Ice’s longtime friend. It was his first contact with any of his friends since he’d been released. 

Once Trome figured out Spike was free and back in Los Angeles, he told Spike to give him the address and that he’d be there as soon as possible. About 30 minutes later, Trome pulled up with two of their mutual friends.

“They all grabbed me and tackled me, and we just cried,” Spike says today. “Everybody held each other. Then, while I'm looking around, Trome is dialing a number. As he’s dialing, all I could hear him say is, ‘There's proof of life.’ I look at him and he's talking to Ice. He turns the phone and me and Ice see each other. That's the first time Ice had seen me out.”

Today, Spike works as at a hospital in the Los Angeles area and tours with Body Count, helping business flow smoothly for Ice-T’s Grammy-winning rock group when they’re on the road. Rejoining Ice-T’s inner circle hinged on Spike leveling with Ice upon his release. As was the case with their lives, Spike could have gone down a different path. Ice was prepared for either alternative and was prepared to walk away, if needed.

“You're not my dependent,” Ice says when people approach him. “I got kids. I got grandkids. You’re my homie, so I'm gonna give you the guidance. The guidance is way more valuable than just a handout. [Spike] meant what he said when he said he was done. Of course, I had to wait for proof, but he’s proved it to me up to this point. If I thought he was still bullshitting, I never would've done the book. ’Cause I'm like, ‘We do the book and then you gonna fuck it up by going to jail and the book will be worthless.’ So, he stood the course and now I think he's in tune to be a motivational speaker, somebody who can go out there and detour people from this life that we lived. I try to do it in my music. If you notice, even though I write about crime, I always end up dead. I always end up in prison. It always goes bad. That's my way of saying, ‘This is not something you wanna try to do.’”