In business, you take a swing and you hope that you hit a home run, but sometimes you strike out. Strikeouts and failures are important. Being down, getting punched in the gut every once in a while by life and coming back up, that's accomplishment.

Now, Bad Ass, you run your mouth about Summerslam. Well, here's the situation. The Rock says this, if the Rock hits you he'll kill you. If he misses, the wind behind the punch will give you pneumonia and you'll die anyway, so the choice is yours, jabroni.

When I train, I'm peeled away. I'm at my rawest state. Generally there's spit coming out my mouth, sweat pouring out my body and every once in awhile I may have just finished throwing up. Those are pretty good indications that it's not time to talk and you should just pass me by.

There was a time in my life when opportunities were so few and far between they were like little cracks in the wall, and if one opportunity came my way, I would scratch and claw and bite and I would do anything I could to make sure that I grabbed that opportunity by the throat and I did not let it go.

Yeah, arrest that man on the crime of having 8 Chicken McNuggets stuck up his arse.

Well, I might take a plane, I might take a train. How do you people live here? You must be insane. I'm leaving Sacramento. Sacramento, I won't stay. But I'll be sure to come back when the Lakers beat the Kings in May.

'You can't see me'? What are you playing? Peekaboo?