In my death, people will understand what I was talking about.

You never stop loving someone. You just learn to live without them.

They wanna censor me, they ratha see me in a cell, livin' in hell, with only a few of us to live to tell.

My mother taught me three things, respect, knowledge-search for knowledge, it's an eternal journey. That's like my hair-cut, the line, 360 degrees, find knowledge always. And she taught me to not be quiet, if there's something on my mind speak it. But also to listen.

All B.S. aside, it all comes down to... we got to survive. I mean, even warriors put their spears down on Sundays. We got to survive here in this country... 'cause I'm not going back to Africa. We got to survive here. And for us to survive here-White folks, Black folks, Korean folks, Mexican folks, Puerto Ricans-we got to understand each other.

Somebody help me, tell me where to go from here cause even Thugs cry, but do the Lord care?

Now the whole worlds calling me a killer all I ever did was try to reach the kids with the realer.