Are you for real?
 

Well...Are you? Discuss!

I'm not sure. I think I am... but I'm always skeptical.

This ain't a game, niqqa! I keep it real!

I am fucking Terry Tate!

You would...

I am fucking Terry Hatcher!

I'm Jenny Craig. By the way, Grav, we've a special discount for super-fat people right now.

Really? I hope Jenny's got connections with the Make a Wish foundation, because your ass is gonna be hoping you'd never said that when I hack into your megahurtz and blow up your monitor.

Oh noz!!!111

I'm a ruskie hax0r

Oh yea. Well...

I'm surrounded by criminals. Heavy rollers even the sheisty individuals. Smokin skunk and mad Phillies. Beatin down Billy Badasses; cracks in stacks and masses
If robbery's a class, bet I pass it. Shit gets drastic, I'm buryin you bastards.

Translation: You hang out at the local Walmart with your prepubescent friends and discuss the next "big game" which is delayed until next year with the news that Halo 2 is coming out soon. (It's actually because timmy's dog ate the nerf basketball, but rationalization helps.)

My mind's my nine, my pen my Mack-10, my target, all you wack niggaz (grav) who started rappin'.

Translation: Until Halo 2 arrives, you play strip rock em sock em robots. You always lose.

Just the way that players play. All day; everyday. I don't know what else to say.

Then don't say anything, niqqa.

Ick Bin Laden!

Big Poppa never softenin. Take you to the church, rob the preacher for the offerin.

I've been robbin' motha fuckas since the slaaave ships.

I've been robbin niggaz since Run and them was singin "Here We Go." Snatchin ropes at the Roxie homeboy you didn't know. My flow, detrimental to your health; usually roll for self.

With the same clips, and the same 4 - 5, two point blank, motha fuckas sure to die.