Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete? Proving nature's laws wrong, it learned to walk without having feet. Funny, it seems to by keeping it's dreams; it learned to breathe fresh air. Long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else even cared.

I'd love to go back to when we played as kids, but things change. And that's the way it is.

I don't see myself being special; I just see myself having more responsibilities than the next man. People look to me to do things for them, to have answers.

I would rather have been shot straight-up in cold blood-but to be set up? By people who you trusted? That's bad.

We probably in hell already, our dumb asses not knowing.

In my mind I'm a blind man doin' time.

Let me say for the record, I am not a gangster and never have been. I'm not the thief who grabs your purse. I'm not the guy who jacks your car. I'm not down with people who steal and hurt others. I'm just a brother who fights back. I'm not some violent closet psycho. I've got a job. I'm an artist.