I'll probably pay more attention to the musicians in the pit than the stars because they're the closest you're going to get to normal people in the audience.

I've been married for 10 years and, you know, it's hard, you spruce it up and you go places. How do you spruce up anything? Artificially. You go places and do things.

Farrakhan got everybody together for the Million Man March and everything. But Farrakhan don't like the Jews. Which is bugged. I get my hair cut on Dekalb Avenue. I never been in a barbershop and heard a bunch of brothers talking about Jews. Black people don't hate Jews. Black people hate white people! We don't got time to dice white people up into little groups. I hate everybody! I don't care if you just got here. "Hey, I'm Romanian." "You Romanian cracker!"

It used to take years to become a junkie. But crack cut that down to 37 minutes.

I love black people, but I hate niggers.

The thing that surprised me the most is just how much money women that weren't rich were paying for their hair. When you're in a beauty parlor in Harlem next to abandoned buildings and somebody's paying five grand for a weave, that's a bit much. I think this is, in a weird way, part of the health care debate. It's like, hmm, there's people with $2000 weaves that could have bought health care with that weave money.

You can only offend me if you mean something to me.