"Music is reflection of self We just explain it, and then we get our checks in the mail It's fucked up, ain't it? How we can come from practically nothing To being able to have any fucking thing that we wanted That's why we sing for these kids who don't have a thing Except for a dream and a fucking rap magazine Who post pin-up pictures on their walls all day long Idolize their favorite rappers and know all their songs Or for anybody whose ever been through shit in their lives So they just sit up and cry at night wishin' they'd die 'Til they throw on a rap record and they sit and they vibe We're nothing to you, but we're the fucking shit in their eyes That's why we seize the moment, try to freeze it and own it Squeeze it and hold it, 'cause we consider these minutes golden And maybe they'll admit it when we're gone Just let our spirits live on, through our lyrics that you hear in our songs!"