This fast life soon shatters, cause after all the lights and screams, nothing but my dreams matter.

My music will mean something. I'll have my own production company. I'm doing my own movies. I have my own restaurant. I just wanna expand.

Gotta get a tight grip, don't slip, loose lips, sank ships, it's a trip, I love the way she licks her lips.

Born through hard times, Ghetto child of mine. I wonder if you have to suffer for your father's crimes.

It was tough sitting in jail listening to Jay Leno and Rush Limbaugh and everybody making jokes about me getting shot. And watching the media report all kinds of lies about me, like that I got raped in jail. That never happened. But at least while I was locked down, all the inmates gave me props encouragement, and so did lots of mothers and kids, who wrote me letters of support.

Mama raised a hellraiser why cry, That's just life in the ghetto, do or die.

I rap about fighting back. I make it uncomfortable by putting details to it. It might not have been politically correct but I've reached somebody; They relating to me. They relate to the brutal honesty in the rap.