All I'm trying to do is survive and make good out of the dirty, nasty, unbelievable lifestyle that they gave me.

First ship them dope, let them deal to brothers, give them guns, step back and watch them kill each other.

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

Give me a paper and pen, so I can write about my life of sin. A couple of bottles of gin, in case I don't get in.

I am being ripped off, because I've never lied to the press. Just as much truth I bring to my work, a journalist should bring that much truth to their work.

The third always speaks the unspeakable words.

When your hero falls from grace, all fairy tales are uncovered Myth exposed and pain magnified, the grace pays uncovered He told me to be strong, but I confused to see it so weak You say never to give up, and it hurts to see what comes to be When your hero falls soley the stars, and so does the reception of tomorrow Without my hero, theres only me alone, to deal with my sorrow Your heart ceases to work, and your soul is not happy at all What are you expected to do, when your only hero falls