Niggaz need guns, too.

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.

Dear mama, yo baby boys doing fine tell the homies I'm in heaven and they aint got hoods.

It aint about black or white cause we`re human

I am not a perfectionist, but still I seek perfection. I am not a great romantic, but yet I yearn 4 affection

And in turn I'm hostile guess you could call me anti-social. Niggaz shakin like they caught the holy ghost when I approach em.

Losing my homies in a hurry, they're relocating to the cemetery.