“Shoot eagles on the Jack Nicklaus course, Porsche with the triple exhaust, Seats soft like a midget’s cough.”

My TV stays on ESPN all day long, I’m one of those. I don’t even listen to music in the car, all I listen to is sports talk.

As far as rap, I was more of a Mobb Deep guy rather than a Tribe guy.

I love to cook a meal for the so-called holidays. You always need the turkey. I like making a good BBQ brisket as well.

Billy Joel is an incredible musician. He just feels like one of the guys, you know. I grew up listening to his music.

It’s an accompaniment to life. It’s not something that I do to rap; I smoke when I open my eyes…I don’t know any other feeling.

I’ll always be into sports. Sports is part of my life forever.

I would say I started rapping because my friends were doin it.

I like every girl. Every kind of girl that there is, I like.

All I believe in is food and myself.

Working in kitchens with Mexicans you always listen to the Spanish channel and that’s what I use. Whenever I cook I think of Spanish music, so I always have to listen to some sort of salsa. It gets your body going.

Linguine linguistics that left my verbal essence saucy, Send a message, leave you sleepin’ next to headless horsey.

My new shorty got a gymnastic back, ’87 emerald green on a classic Jag. She had the cleft palate, I ordered chef’s salad; She had the club foot, with that little arm, I couldn’t help but laugh…she ordered Chicken Parm.

I just do whatever I do, and put it out there without tryin to cater to anybody. If you like it, you like it.

Lamb is such a beautiful thing.

I pick and choose my battles, but I overthink everything because I have to think about everything.

Strictly cop and go’s until we laid in the Galapagos Eating tacos, higher than an opera note

The caged eagle become a metaphor for all forms of isolation, the ultimate in imprisonment. A zoo is prison.

If you want to fly with the eagles, don’t swim with the ducks!

God is more eager to answer than we are to ask.

“We may talk what we please,” he cries in his enthusiasm for the oldest of the arts, “of lilies, and lions rampant, and spread eagles

Fool that I was, upon my eagle’s wings I bore this wren, till I was tired with soaring, and now he mounts above me.

September 11, 2001: Citizens of the U.S., besieged by terror’s sting, rose up, weeping glory, as if on eagles’ wings.–from the poem Angel of Remembrance: Candles for September 11, 2001

I was born by God’s dear grace, in an extraordinary place. Where the stars and stripes, and the eagle fly.

Remember, she’s an eagle when she flies!