I have this table in my new house. They put this table in without asking. It was some weird nouveau riche marble table, and I hated it. But it was literally so heavy that it took a crane to move it. We would try to set up different things around it, but it never really worked. I realized that table was my ego. No matter what you put around it, under it, no matter who photographed it, the douchebaggery would always come through.

I'm a pop enigma. I live and breathe every element in life. I rock a bespoke suit and I go to Harold's for fried chicken. It's all these things at once, because, as a taste maker, I find the best of everything. There's certain things that black people are the best at and certain things that white people are the best at. Whatever we as black people are the best at, I'ma go get that. Like, on Christmas I don't want any food that tastes white. And when I go to purchase a house, I don't want my credit to look black.

My wife has dated broke black dudes.

I'm giving all that I have in this life. I'm opening up my notebook and I'm saying everything in there out loud.

Visiting my mind is like visiting the Hermès factory. Sh*t is real.

Having money isn't everything, not having it is.

The dinosaurs aren't remembered for much more than their bones. When humanity's gone, what do we give to this little planet that we're on, and what could we do collectively, removing the pride?