I've Gone Through Too Much, From Beefs

I Lay Puzzle As I Backtrack To Earlier Times, Nothing's Equivalent To The New York State Of Mind

I'm Capable Of Anything, My Imagination Can Give Me Wings

We're All Africans, Everyone - Black, White, Yellow.

...shorty's Laugh Was Cold-blooded As He Spoke So Foul, Only Twelve Tryin To Tell Me That He Liked My Style. Then I Rose, Wiping The Blunt's Ash From My Clothes, Then Froze, Only To Blow The Herb Smoke Through My Nose.

When I Made Illmatic, I Was Trying To Make The Perfect Album. It Comes From The Days Of Wild Style. I Was Trying To Make You Experience My Life. I Wanted You To Look At Hip-hop Differently. I Wanted You To Feel That Hip-hop Was Changing And Becoming Something More Real.