Opportunity may only come once in a lifetime.
I don’t know if I ever feel totally great about a record when I put it out. With every record that I put out, someone has literally got to come pry it from me because when I listen to my own music, I just hear flaws in it.
In my mind I’ma fighter, my heart’s a lighter, my soul is the fluid. My flow sparks it right up.
I’m an attention freak. I want all the women in the world, and if I don’t get them, I fall to the ground and start kicking my feet.
See I’m a poet to some, a regular modern day Shakespeare.
Cause see they call me a menace; and if the shoe fits I’ll wear it.
Sometimes you just gotta let sh-t go and say ‘to hell with it’ and move on.
I try to keep it positive and play it cool, shoot up the playground and tell the kids to stay in school.
You could date a stick of dynamite and wouldn’t go out with a bang.
I make music to make you sick of fake music hate music like devil worshippin Satan music. So say your prayers your Hail Mary’s and Jesuses. Take two sticks, tape ’em together and make a crucifix.
Question is, are you bozos smart enough to feel stupid?
When I die, so does hip hop.
Piracy doesn’t hurt an artist unless the artist puts out a bad album.
As long as the wrong feels right – it’s like I’m in flight.
My thing is this; if I’m sick enough to think it, then I’m sick enough to say it.
Of course you don’t want your kids swearing. But remember how fun it was to cuss when you were in the first grade?
I sold my soul to the devil. I’m going to hell. I’m headed to hell. I want the money, the women, the fortune, and the fame. That Means I’ll end up burning in hell scorching in flames. Satan’ll be in to see me later to see if I’m interested in being partners. Devil worshippin’, Satan music.
My soul is possessed by this devil my new name is Rain Man.
I have big nuts. huge nuts. Elephantitis of the balls – that’s what I have.
The emotions in a song – the anger, aggression – have got to be legitimate.