Blowin' up is nothing to me.

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.

When I release, you loose teeth.

Rappin bout blunts and broads, Tits and bras, ménage à trois, sex in expensive cars.

Going shopping all the time. Just making money, and competing with the niggas in other neighborhoods. And the whole competition with the girls - who had the prettiest girlfriend - and going partying. It was just on. It was fun!

Get ready to die, tell God I say hi.