“Never speak twice on how you feel.”

I don’t like my music. I’ll make a song, and if I do like it, I’ll feel it, but after that 10th play, I don’t like it no more.

Unless you are me, in my position, don’t ever tell me how to feel.

I know I’m young but I feel like it’s nothing I can’t handle.

I found out I was riding for people who wouldn’t even walk for me.

I’m sorry that I don’t know how to love.

I ain’t never had a role model, watched Chief Keef growing up.

Success make these people mad I know how it is.

Without loyalty, you won’t accomplish anything.

I always try to make my next song better than the last.

I’m just trying to be myself – make music how I make music.

One day I’m gone have everything I prayed for. I really believe it.

I don’t really trust nobody.

Love yourself and never let the hate get to you.

I think music made me who I am. Music taught me what was gutter and what wasn’t. Music taught me how to live.

The only thing that scares me is dying.

It’s hard to trust people out here because these people be having hidden motives.

I hope you find someone, who pours love like rain during monsoon, onto all broken parts of you.

The world kept breaking you and here you are- still soft, still loving, how strong of you to maintain your magic in a world where everyone loses their essence.

If your heart is broken it doesn’t mean it can’t love again.

How is it that we mourn the shattered pieces of the love we willingly broke?

Does anything at all make any sense? No offense! Is everything real or just a lens of pretense? Anyway, I feel that this moment is dying and now I’m done wrying and trying.

Souls shouldering the burden of false hopes, broken promises, fear like a burning flame. Maybe that’s why each one of us is so different yet the same.

Aren’t we all murderers? Sometimes of our emotions. Sometimes of our dream. Sometimes of our conscience for the sake of being downstream?

Promises were made and broken. Only you could keep me open.