“158 Lewis Avenue between Lafayette and Van Buren, that was back durin days of hangin’ on my bed-stuy block”

I relieve rappers just like Tylenol

Control what I hold and of course be the boss of myself, no-one else will bring my wealth.

So put a quarter in your ass Cuz ya played ya’self

There’s no time for conversation dear, moan is all I want to hear.

If you are what you eat then feed me dope.

Save your wack rhymes, hold your female. Pass the Old Gold, trash the ale. Cash your food stamps, get the WIC out the mail. Love to eat shrimps, but I never eat snail,

I don’t remember saying nothing about me crossing over. I did R&B collaborations but I never tried to do no pop stuff.

Take a stand and command to demand what’s grand.

I guess you’re not gonna be happy til’ it’s for real. Four year old kids, doing drive-bys on Big Wheels.

Eat a whole fish except for the tail. Keep food in the fridge so it don’t get stale, And when there’s nothing to eat…I bite my nails.

I take them 8 to 80, dumb, crippled, and crazy. Crisp and clean with no caffeine, and a pair of spandex or either tight jeans.

There are desires that we all want to achieve, but remember respect is most greatest to receive.

I won’t say I’m the baddest, or portray that role, But I’m in the top 2, and my father’s gettin’ old.

Pushers don’t pay taxes.

Friday the 13th…I’mma play Jason!

No-frill rappers: you will evaporate, disintegrate, deflate to your fate, as the great will dominate straight to the state Of reignin’, gainin’…So put Kane in That category. Period. End of story.

There’s a balance between ballads and kick-ass songs.

What was important was that the attempt to write stories kept her straight on the dividing line between truth and fiction. If she had not found this outlet in writing, she might have grown up to be a tremendous liar.

There has always been a battle between good and evil.

We of the modern age are a bridge between the old human and the new one. We still have the mentality of the old human – a slave mentality, like the Children of Israel in Egypt: too controlled, full of fear.

I suppose that what I would want to acknowledge is that perhaps the tension, the crucial tension, isn’t necessarily between the view of bullfighting as a tradition versus as an art form, but between the values inside the ring and the values outside the ring.

The peacemakers shall be called the sons of God, who came to make peace between God and man. What then shall the sowers of discord be called, but the children of the devil? And what must they look for but their father’s portion?

How many husbands were floating between life and death, clinging to their wives in this world? And how may millions and millions of people were there in the world like Charlie who wouldn’t let go of their loved ones when they’re gone?

And once they start to think about the consequences, they almost always calm down. Unless they’re drunk, of course. Or stoned. Or aged between fourteen and twenty-one. Or Glaswegian.