“For a guy who didn’t expect a fan base whatsoever, I’m pretty stoked. People say they don’t understand it, and I say that’s okay.”

Everyone’s been on the “hip-hop is dead” campaign for years, and now it’s the most unsure-of-itself genre ever.

I started freestyling with friends about eight or nine years ago. I started writing also around the same time, but didn’t meet blockhead until about ’94. I started making beats not until about ’96.

People are very adamant about maintaining a certain sound or a certain era, like, “There were three years of rap that were great, so let’s just keep doing that.” The genre itself is just stuck in place. It’s been treading water for a while.

The alleycats manipulate the blocks with gutter magic

If I had interesting things to say, I would have been a speechwriter.

I’ve been able to sell records still. I want to be the guy that stands out there and says thank you personally to everyone. And I try after my shows and kick it because I want to genuinely say thanks.

The only bridge I’ve ever burned along this legacy

I’ve been able to tour because of my music and I’ve learned a lot about myself while on the road. I think some of the imagery of my writing are snapshots of where I’ve been and my feelings about the world.

I think it gets to musicians’ heads a lot of the time. Just because people like your records doesn’t mean what you have to say is going to be interesting.

The older I get, the less I care about what’s cool. I realize I’m old and weird.

God helps those who have no-cut contracts.

I dance is the one that linked the cities of prosperity and chance.

In a time where everything’s a flavor of the month, and it’s hard to have any sort of longevity,

Now we the American working population Hate the fact that eight hours a day Is wasted on chasing the dream of someone that isn’t us And we may not hate our jobs But we hate jobs in general That don’t have to do with fighting our own causes.

There’s smoke in my iris, but I painted a sunny day on the insides of my eyelids

It’s hard to stand around and make conversation with people I’ve learned. But I do want to be the guy that can do it easily.

Now we the American working population Hate the fact that eight hours a day Is wasted on chasing the dream of someone that isn’t us And we may not hate our jobs But we hate jobs in general That don’t have to do with fighting our own causes.

There’s smoke in my iris, but I painted a sunny day on the insides of my eyelids

The mother’s battle for her child with sickness, with poverty, with war, with all the forces of exploitation and callousness that cheapen human life needs to become a common human battle, waged in love and in the passion for survival.

It’s hard to stand around and make conversation with people I’ve learned. But I do want to be the guy that can do it easily.

…I’ve never had a dream in my life, Because a dream is what you wanna do, but still haven’t pursued.

Dream a little dream, Or you can live a little dream I’d rather live it ‘Cause dreamers always chase But never get it

Armchair hater, I wouldn’t piss on your coffin But when I see your picture I draw dicks on it.

I don’t think anyone can argue that I’m not trying to do my own thing at least.