Sweat Pants, Hair Tied, Chillin Wit No

I Swear These Niggas Gassed Up, Even Though The Price Is High. I Could Own Half As Much Clothing And Be Twice As Fly.

Everybody Dies But Not Everybody Lives.

Me, My Niggas And Some Madonna Hoes That Look Just Like Virgins But Trust They Down To Go.

I'm Not A Gangster, I Don't Have No Desire To Be Hard.

I Wish That We Lived In A Time And A Generation Where People Would Stop Viewing My Honesty As Overly Emotional. People Always Act Like I Spend My Life Crying In A Dark Room. I Don't, I'm Good. I'm A Man. I Want To Be Remembered As An Artist That Gave You A Piece Of Me, As Opposed To Some Surface Bullshit. I Don't Think People Realize That We Die, We Leave Here, And Either They Forget About You Or Remember You. And How They Remember You Is Up To You. I Just Want To Be Remembered As A Poet That Was Open And Honest Because I Wake Up Every Morning And I'm Me.