Remy Ma and Papoose used to be the internet’s favorite “black love” poster couple, but the way this story is unfolding, that image is starting to look more like a business plan than a romance. Because when you strip away the hashtags and the couple goals, what people are now whispering is simple: this was a scheme set up by Remy Ma and Papoose all along, and the goal was always to get Claressa Shields’ $900,000 bag under their control. That $900,000 isn’t just a random figure; it’s the kind of number that suddenly makes a lot of confusing moves make sense.
From the outside, Claressa has been screaming from the rooftops how Papoose is the best man she’s ever been with. She says she hasn’t paid for flights, hotels, bags, or even basic meals in forever because Pap handles it all. To her, that looks like love. To everyone watching now, it’s starting to look like that $900,000 was quietly footing the bill the entire time. The gag is, the man “taking care” of everything might just be using her own money to do it.
Remy herself already dropped the first clue when she called Claressa Papoose’s “come-up” and accused him of playing with that girl. She said it like it was a joke, like she knew nobody would believe her anyway.
But now those words are hitting different, because new receipts are suggesting that Papoose hasn’t just been riding Claressa’s wave—he’s allegedly been helping himself to her funds to clear his own mess. That “user” label Remy threw out is starting to sound less like shade and more like a confession with the names reversed.
Meanwhile, Claressa is online defending this man like she’s on payroll, proudly telling everybody how she takes him plates of food because “he’s upstairs” and insisting nobody will ever make her stop talking about “her man.”
She says his name like it’s a brand, like she’s protecting something priceless. But behind the devotion, people are looking at the math and coming back to that $900,000 and asking: who is really being protected here?
Because somewhere in this chaos, people have forgotten who Claressa Shields actually is. This woman is one of the most accomplished female boxers of all time. Two-time Olympic gold medalist. A world champion. The only boxer, male or female, to become undisputed in four weight classes, holding titles across up to five divisions.
She’s the kind of athlete who should have $900,000 deals coming in on the regular, and more. She even had a film made about her, “Fire Inside,” capturing her journey. Yet none of that is the headline anymore. Instead, she’s trending for being wrapped up in a love triangle, a tax mess, and a contract that looks more like a trap than a blessing.
Enter Win Records and Salita Promotions—the now-infamous $8 million multi-fight partnership she signed in November, the one she publicly credited Papoose for helping secure.
On paper, it sounds like a dream: big checks, multiple fights, media exposure, cross-branding with music. Claressa herself said it wouldn’t have been possible without Pap. But when you look closer, you start seeing all the moving parts and all the hands in her pockets.
Win Records is not a traditional boxing promotion company. It’s a music management label. Papoose is the main artist and the head of its hip-hop division. Claressa is the first athlete they’ve ever signed, which means she’s not just a client—she’s the test case, the crash dummy, and the primary revenue stream all rolled into one.
A label like this doesn’t just handle one piece of an athlete’s life; it gets its hooks into everything: appearances, branding, endorsements, even a potential rap career if she ever decides to go down that road. And a management setup like that typically takes 10–20% off the top, no matter what.
Then there’s Salita Promotions, the actual boxing promoter, responsible for securing fights, organizing events, and selling rights to networks like ESPN or Netflix. They take a cut too. After Win Records eats, after Salita eats, and after everyone else in this 360-style web eats, what’s left for the person actually stepping into the ring?
That’s where that $900,000 number starts to feel sinister. Because when you tally up the percentages, it’s not hard to imagine a scenario where Claressa is breaking her body for long-term deals and walking away with crumbs compared to what she should be getting.
And who sits at the center of all this? Papoose. He’s not just the boyfriend. He’s her “manager,” her “promoter,” her bridge to Win Records, and the guy everyone in the room is praising as the mastermind who made it all possible. Every time Claressa lands a gig, Papoose gets a cut. Every time Win Records moves her around, Papoose benefits as their main artist and power player.
Every time Salita locks in a fight, it’s on the foundation of that $8 million partnership, where he helped broker the terms. In other words, that $900,000 pipeline has his name written all over it—just not on the front of the check.
And all this is happening while reports say Papoose hasn’t paid taxes in 13 years and owes the IRS over $300,000. Remy Ma reportedly owes over $600,000 herself. Together, that’s a little over $900,000 in tax debt hanging over the “black love” empire. Suddenly, the number $900,000 doesn’t feel like coincidence anymore; it feels like a target. It feels like the exact size of a hole someone desperately needs to fill.
That’s why people are side-eyeing the so-called “breakup” between Remy and Papoose. Yes, Papoose filed for divorce. Yes, they’ve had public spats. Yes, they’ve thrown shade at each other online.
But Remy has reportedly taken divorce off the table, and when they pop up doing endorsements together, draped in furs and smiles, there’s no hostility in sight. They look like a united front, playing roles for the internet while the real story is happening behind closed doors.
Commentators have already pulled the tax records and laid it out like a court case. Papoose owing over $300,000. Remy with over $622,000 in liens. The receipts are public, and the conclusion a lot of people are drawing is that this isn’t just a love triangle—it’s a financial funnel.
If Papoose is profiting from Claressa’s deals and still legally tied to Remy, then any bag he helps build can ultimately be used to patch up both their debts. One woman’s grind becomes two people’s lifeline.
The saddest part is that Claressa has a history of being taken advantage of. Long before Papoose, there were already disturbing stories coming out from people who grew up with her, talking about her being mistreated as a young boxer, even dealing with pregnancy and exploitation at a time when she should have been protected.
Combine that with years of hits to the head, the mental strain of being a combat athlete, and the psychological scars of being used, and it’s not hard to see how a smooth-talking “protector” could slide in and start moving her life like a chess piece.
When people say Papoose is “praying” on Claressa, they’re not talking about church. They’re saying he saw a gifted, emotionally vulnerable, slightly off-center woman who worships him, and he built a business plan around that devotion. She calls him her man; he treats her like a walking $900,000 solution.
Fans point out that every time she speaks, you can hear her insecurity, see how obsessed she is with making this relationship work, no matter what it costs.
And then there’s Remy Ma, who threw that line out about Claressa being Papoose’s come-up and then sat back like she had nothing to do with anything.
But if she and Pap are still connected, still sharing liabilities, still smiling in fur-lined endorsements while sitting on a $900,000-sized mountain of debt, how is she not benefiting from Claressa’s bag too? Whether they’re love partners or business partners at this point, the result is the same. Claressa’s work pays. They both profit.
People online are connecting the dots and calling it what it looks like: a long game. A “black love” brand that became a cover. A struggling rapper who found a way into the executive suite by attaching himself to a generational athlete.
A tax problem that needed a solution. And a woman who has been fighting her whole life now being used as the unofficial sponsor of someone else’s comeback story.
In the end, the loudest hope isn’t that Remy and Papoose finally admit what they’re doing; it’s that Claressa wakes up and realizes what’s happening before the money and years are gone.
Because if she doesn’t, she might open her eyes one day and realize that $900,000 wasn’t just a number in a press release—it was the price of her trust, her prime, and her power, signed away to people who always saw her more as a check than a champion.