“I always wanted to be a basketball player until I discovered Pizza Pockets.”

I felt like I was at that breaking point. I just prayed and took my mind off of dreams – I went to church. I felt like a lot of things came together. I’m not perfect but I strive to be.

About 4000 men, women and teenagers regularly venture out to play a game in -20 weather and stinging prairie winds. Bundled in sweaters and snow suits, balaclavas on their heads and suction cupped shoes on their feet.

Live like the Kennedy’s, above the law.

My brother says I’m too famous to hang around with him.

But we want peace, I would move all my people down this way. I could then keep them all quietly near camp.

I wake up, eat, make a beat. Play Xbox, make another beat and go to bed. Occasionally do something. I rarely party.

So (if) some cracker come and tell you ‘Well, my mother and father blood go back to the Mayflower,’ you better hold your pocket.

A wee paperback to stick in your pocket.

You could feel America starting to ease up a little bit on racism, against blacks in certain pockets, and then suddenly The Cosby Show bubbled up and it was the right time for it.

I asked a boy begging on the streets, ‘If you could have anything in the world, what would you want?’ and he answered me with two words: ‘A pencil.’ Luckily, I had one in my pocket, and in the second it took me to give it to him, a defining dream was born.

There is no praise to bear the sort that you put in your pocket.

So I went in front of the judge, and I had my St. Jude prayer book in my pocket and my St. Jude medal. And I’m standing there and that judge said I was found guilty, so he sentenced me to what the law prescribed: one to 14 years.

Though she be little she had the heart to dream big, by the pocketful.

Money is always there but the pockets change.