The second time I went to jail, I was like, 'okay, this is not the move.'
I had gone to jail, but I wasn't gettin' locked up for drugs then. I was gettin' locked up for guns. My moms kept finding guns and stuff in my room and she was gettin' more scared.
You're either slangin' crack rock, or you got a wicked jumpshot.
The green tempts me to make the rich the enemy, and take their cheese.
I'm a thug, but I swear for three days I cried.
Even when I was wrong, I got my point across.