But my policy was to go to school just enough so the authorities wouldn't kick me out. If I had a new outfit to show off or some new jewels I knew I'd get sweated for, fine, but I wasn't gonna report to school every day like it was some type of job when they weren't even paying me for it. (Chapter 1,p. 9)

He pulled off his shirt. On his shoulder was a gun dispensing a bullet, and the heat is me went up a notch. (Chapter 5, p. 84)

Besides, the drug dealers helped America to be rich. If it wasn't for us, who would buy the fly cars, butter leathers, and the jewelry? (Chapter 7, p. 118)

'Who'da ever known that Santiaga's daughter was sipping bubbly with a nigga who's a worker for the other side! While your daddy was being raided by the feds you were having drinks butt...