Delonte West gave an interview to SLAM in which he finally opened up about that time in September 2009 when he was pulled over for negligent driving and cops found a stash of weapons in his three-wheel Can-Am Spyder. Turns out he had a rather intense reaction to the drug he was taking for bipolar disorder after being rustled from his sleep because a few of his friends had gotten into the recording studio in his basement where the guns were being stored.
Let's let him take it from here, per the SLAM story:
"Ma Dukes came running upstairs into my room, cursing me, saying she wanted all these MFers out of my house," recalls West. "I came to like, What's going on? I was already on my Seroquel trip. A few of my cats had found some stuff in the studio and they were living the whole gangsta life thing-guns in the air and this and that," continues West. "And I said, ‘Oh my God. What the fuck are y'all doin' in here? Y'all got to go. Momma ain't on that. Kids are running around upstairs. It's time to go.'"
Gassed up from the commotion, West decided it would be prudent for him to relocate the guns to an empty house he owned nearby. So, with his other vehicles blocked in by guests' cars, and expecting it to be a short trip, he haphazardly loaded up his Can-Am and placed the weapons in a Velcro-type of bag-"not a desperado, hardcase, gun-shooting-out-the-side type case"-and set off.
"I'm on the Beltway, cruisin'," West says, voice high, emotional and inimitable. "Soon I start realizing I'm dozing in and out. I open my eyes and I went from this lane to that. I'm swervin', and by the time I wake up, I'm about three exits past my exit.
"There's this truck flying beside me-" West pauses; this next part is crucial-"and I'm scared to death. So I seen an officer coming up and I try to flag him down. I pull up next to him. He slows down and I get up in front of him. I tell the officer I'm not functioning well and I'm transporting weapons… The rest of the story is what it is.
"I'm not proud of it," concludes West, "but it looks way worse than it was."
The story also contains a few of West's more memorable malapropisms:
"After we win a game, and I hit the winner and everyone is screaming my name I should feel good, but I might be down in the slums."
"Print this: I ain't lookin' for no nipple to cry on. I'm just saying what it is. Hopefully, one day people won't look at me as the boogieman."
West goes on to address the rumor that he banged LeBron's mom—"Who knows where that rumor came from? Who knows who really started it?"—and he laments that he's been stigmatized because of his illness. But he's also received plenty of support from those who are glad he's so public about it. He was on house arrest last season, when he played for the Celtics, but he's now a free agent who's unable to sign anywhere, pending the lockout.