Thug: [repeating] Look, bud, I said 'Your money or your life.'

"Thug Life thats all we know so we grow into some beasts when we get let off them leashes we go and get it, get ya weight up, and when that camera phone flash you aint never have to ask is that Boosie Baddazz straight up, i aint runnin my mouth, i aint runnin the south, spade for spade im the realist nigga out, know what im talkin bout, my niggaz let chalk out, jealous cuz we fresha then the rest of dem fellas that stick togetha, I gotta have alarms now, I aint cant trust no body, I gotta keep a Desert Eagle, nigga know I got it, heart full of fuckin pain cuz im tired of gettin stabbed n grabbed by all these motha fuckin crabs, I laugh but maintain, dont switch the game plan and its FUCK THE POLICE they bring us no peace, its the mind of me Boosie Boo, so much shit goin on where I rome how am I gonna find some peace, they say I'm a role model but I'm not a role model gotta smile when i aint gotta, tired and still holla, I'm a boss so I go off, know i like to Show Off, on the road to riches gotta murda these niggaz" - Boosie

fake thug no love, get the slug
CB4 gusto ur luck low, i didn't know til i was drunk tho
you freak niggaz played out, get fucked and ate out
prostitute turned bitch got the gage out
96 ways i made out
montanna way, good f-e-l-l-a, verbal AK spray

"Now show me where them pussy niggas at who playin wit my son, you gonna walk ova there and knock out his lungs, n tell that boy somethin gangsta when you Hit Em Up, like what... o you playin nowww BLUHH BLUHH, now we scrathcin off the scene in the Elcamino, straight to That River where them niggas throw them black ninas, now you official nigga, My Nigga One Love anybody play wit you they get they issue nigga, We got 35's n 38's 22's n 25's n 12 gauges that come from lock wit a 100 buck shots BlUHHH" - Boosie

If I'm in, you know, especially in a poor area, and I see guys walking like they're thugs down the street, I don't care what color they are, I go "That guy looks like they're a thug, and looks like they're tough, okay... If they try to shake me down I'm gonna ignore them and keep walking, and if they come up to me and try to put a hand on me, I'm gonna punch 'em right in the throat. 'Cause I don't wanna jump on top on of 'em and hurt my knees and stuff, when I slam their head in the ground. Plus, I don't wanna kill 'em. 'Cause then I'd have to go to jail and stuff, and they'd have to find that it was done in self defense. Been down that road." So, I'm sitting there and I'm thinking, "Alright. I'm gonna punch this guy in the throat." I'm thinking how hard am I gonna punch him. And I'm not thinking he's a black guy. I'm thinking the guy's walking like a thug, thinks they're tough, and I'm thinking about how I'm going to defend myself. Just like when I've been at the Coast, a few years ago, and walk out of a restaurant in South Padre and they're having a biker rally—and it wasn't like a nice biker rally, most rallies are nice people—it was like thug wannabes, rode up with a motorcycle...and were looking at me, and I was thinking "Okay. Alright. That guy is taking his helmet off. I'm gonna punch him in the throat the minute he tries to get up and do something, and then I'm gonna assault those next three guys. Then they'll probably pull a weapon. I need to take that." I mean, that's what I'm thinking whenever something like that is going on. I can't help it. I'm thinking, "Alright, I'm ready to kill." That's just how I am. And I'm thinking, "Alright. Okay. Instantly assess these guys. These are probably ex-con, real criminals. I've got my three kids here. That gives me, you know, just turbo dinosaur power. And I'm thinking, "Control yourself. Don't have a fight, unless you absolutely got to." You know, the man in me is ready to take all on! and... you know what I'm talking about, don't you? ARGH, you scum! I hate gang members and filth! And it has nothing to do with black people. But I will stump your head in if you start a fight with me, you thug scum! Anyways, excuse me ladies and gentlemen.

Now if we do wanna live the thug life and the gangsta' life and all that, OK, so stop being cowards and let's have a revolution. But we don't wanna do that, dudes just wanna live "character", they wanna be "cartoons", but if they really wanted to do something, they was that tuff, alright, let's start our own country, let's start a revolution, let's get outta' here, let's do something. But they don't wanna do that, they wanna pimp our communities and portray this image that they know we all can't survive and make, and that's what I saw.

The guy was dead as hell. He lay on the floor in his pajamas with his brains scattered all over the rug and my gun was in his hand. I kept rubbing my face to wipe out the fuzz that clouded my mind but the cops wouldn't let me. One would pull my hand away and shout a question at me that made my head ache even worse and another would slap me with a wet rag until I felt like I had been split wide open.

The Police report said they stabbed this guy 51 times....bludgeoned him in the head with a heavy object 13 times and they shot him twice....so I figure this guy's by the door on the way out going....YOU DON'T HAVE TO LEAVE YET, DO YOU?!....YOU HAVEN'T SHOVED A CHAINSAW UP MY ASS YET!....MY HEAD'S STILL ON MY TORSO!!....I'M GLAD YOU FUCKERS CAN HANDLE YOUR HIGH!

And because I had been a hustler, I knew better than all whites knew, and better than nearly all of the black 'leaders' knew, that actually the most dangerous black man in America was the ghetto hustler. Why do I say this? The hustler, out there in the ghetto jungles, has less respect for the white power structure than any other Negro in North America. The ghetto hustler is internally restrained by nothing. He has no religion, no concept of morality, no civic responsibility, no fear — nothing. To survive, he is out there constantly preying upon others, probing for any human weakness like a ferret. The ghetto hustler is forever frustrated, restless, and anxious for some 'action'. Whatever he undertakes, he commits himself to it fully, absolutely. What makes the ghetto hustler yet more dangerous is his 'glamour' image to the school-dropout youth in the ghetto.These ghetto teen-agers see the hell caught by their parents struggling to get somewhere, or see that they have given up struggling in the prejudiced, intolerant white man’s world. The ghetto teen-agers make up their own minds they would rather be like the hustlers whom they see dressed ‘sharp’ and flashing money and displaying no respect for anybody or anything. So the ghetto youth become attracted to the hustler worlds of dope, thievery, prostitution, and general crime and immorality.

I am attracted to a thug. I like that quality, but I like the other side of it, too. Because all guys who go around behaving in macho ways are really scared little girls. So you have to look beneath the surface. There's a difference between my ideal man and a man that I'm sexually attracted to, believe me. Therein lies the rub.

"They Holla Young Gunz and Young Bloodz, but Boosie he bust gunz and spit it to his loved ones.

The only way I've been practicing my whole life, to live my life is to be responsible for what I do. I don't know how to be responsible for what every black male did, I don't know. And yes, I am gonna say that I'm a thug, that's because I came from the gutter and I'm still here! I'm not saying I'm a thug because I wanna rob you or rape people and things. I'm a business man, I mean, you know I'm a business man because you find me at my places of business.

I want to explain my environment to those who don't come any closer to it than the records they buy or the images they see on television. People want the truth. Even if they can't handle it, they want it. I let you know that I survived nine bullets not to sell records, but because it's the truth. Every time I sit down for an interview, I'm asked, "Well, 50, how did it feel to get shot nine times?" But those stories don't hold the weight, the pain, or the hope of my experience. It just can't. This is my mindset and these are the things that go on. This is why I say the rhymes that I say. This is what happened when I was trying to get rich before I died in Southside Queens.