I almost wish I could be more exciting, that I could match what is
happening out there to me.
I've got a good man. He takes care of me. I don't have to be scared of
anything because I know he will kick every ass... disrespect him and
you've got a problem.
God gave me a voice to sing with, and when you have that, what other gimmick is there?
I was aware of people staring at me. No one moved. They seemed almost in trance. I just stared at the clock in the center of the church. When I finished, everyone clapped and started crying.
I know that I could really kill for my daughter. I know because I'm living for her, so I'm fierce when it comes down to it. And I feel the same about my husband and my family. I'm just fiercely protective. It's like, that's my lair and nobody messes with my lair.
First of all, let's get one thing straight. Crack is cheap. I make too much money to ever smoke crack, let's get that straight, okay? We don't do crack. We don't do that. Crack is whack.
What's black? I've been trying to figure this out since I've been in the business. I don't know how to sing black-and I don't know how to sing white, either. I know how to sing. Music is not a color to me. It's an art.