Blowin' up is nothing to me.
All I know is gold and platinum, and I want to be platinum.
I'm lonely! I'm bored!
Going shopping all the time. Just making money, and competing with the niggas in other neighborhoods. And the whole competition with the girls - who had the prettiest girlfriend - and going partying. It was just on. It was fun!
The hustlers on the corner were my role models.
I'm trying to get other niggas off the streets.
I had gone to jail, but I wasn't gettin' locked up for drugs then. I was gettin' locked up for guns. My moms kept finding guns and stuff in my room and she was gettin' more scared.
My mom is from Jamaica and she was going to school in the morning, and in the evening she was working, and at night she would go to night school and then come in and go to sleep. So she would never watch the news and stuff like that and she didn't know what crack was. She didn't know nothing about it, but when I told her I was selling crack, she threatened to kick me out of the house. And then I just started paying for stuff - paying her bills and giving her money, so she'd just tell me to be careful because there was nothing she could do to stop it.
I heard about crack on the news and I was like, "Oh, that's what the niggas must be doing." And when I kept coming outside, I was doing my own little jostlin' to get my money.
What happens on that corner happens on every corner.
Basically, I wake up at nine o'clock in the morning, go to different record stores, go to the studio, think up different ideas for songs. Just workin'.
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