I Like It When People Talk S**t.

You Heard Of Hell, Well I Was Sent From It.

His Palms Are Sweaty, Knees Weak, Arms Are Heavy There's Vomit On His Sweater Already, Mom's Spaghetti He's Nervous, But On The Surface He Looks Calm And Ready To Drop Bombs, But He Keeps On Forgettin' What He Wrote Down, The Whole Crowd Goes So Loud He Opens His Mouth, But The Words Won't Come Out He's Chokin', How, Everybody's Jokin' Now The Clocks Run Out, Times Up, Over, Blaow!

The Kids Are Old Enough Now - I Just Want To Let Them Be Kids. I Don't Want To Comment On Them Too Much. They're At An Age Where I Just Want To Let Them Be Kids.

Piracy Doesn't Hurt An Artist Unless The Artist Puts Out A Bad Album.

I Just Say Whatever I Want To Whoever I Want Whenever I Want Wherever I Want However I Want.