A Quote by Boosie

What 2Pac did to me is he touched me with his music. — © Boosie
What 2Pac did to me is he touched me with his music.

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My fans come tell me I'm their 2Pac. Their mamas who love 2Pac come tell me that I'm the closest to 2Pac.
A man touched me: his hand... my thigh. I touched him too: my fist... his jaw.
We didn't have any problem with 2Pac. We liked his music.
Across from me at the next row of supports Jim raised his hand and touched his fingers to his thumb a few times, imitating an opening and closing beak. Negotiate. He wanted me to engage a lunatic who had already turned four people into smoking meat. Okay. I could do that. “Alright, Jeremy!” I yelled into the night. “Give me the salamander and I won’t cut your head off!” Jim put his hand over his face and did some shaking. I thought he was laughing, but I couldn’t be sure.
I was a very devout boy and one day I heard the music of an Egyptian Koran singer in the mosque. The melancholy of this music touched me so deeply that it brought me to tears.
Music is my life. Music runs through my veins. Music inspires me. Music is a part of me. Music is all around us. Music soothes me. Music gives me hope when I lose faith. Music comforts me. Music is my refuge.
Nirvana really touched me as a teenager and started making me pay attention to music as a participatory thing that I could do. Music that you want to throw your body into it - that's a feeling that I'm not quite satisfied with having made yet.
His fingertips slid down from my face, lightly stroking the line of my neck, down toward my shoulder. Everywhere he touched, a trail of goose bumps appeared. How did he keep doing this to me? Marcus—who made every girl in the world swoon—had zero effect on me. But one whisper of a touch from Adrian completely undid me.
He has eyes so expressive they give a hint to more than what he portrays. He’s dedicated to his friends, family, and even his motorcyle. He touched me as if I were made of glass. He kissed me as if he’d savor it for the rest of his life.
I grew up listening to a lot of 2Pac and a lot of East Coast, West Coast rap; Bad Boy, Lil Kim, Foxy Brown, Biggie, 2Pac. Super hip-hop, super listening to that raw era of music.
It is history that has distorted our lives and complicated issues. The good thing is; whether we like it or not, a lot of us are still fighting. If there was no Nkrumah, there probably won't have been a Fela Anikulapo Kuti. I appreciate the fact that he stood and risked his life. I am proud of his courage, but if you asked if he was a conventional father who did homework with me and taught me music, he did nothing of this.
I do not remember very many things from the inside out. I do not remember what it felt like to touch things, or how bathwater traveled over my skin. I did not like to be touched, but it was a strange dislike. I did not like to be touched because I craved it too much. I wanted to be held very tight so I would not break. Even now, when people lean down to touch me, or hug me, or put a hand on my shoulder, I hold my breath. I turn my face. I want to cry.
Nirvana really touched me as a teenager and started making me pay attention to music as a participatory thing that I could do.
Country music and the world will miss George Jones. He was someone who set a high standard in our industry for great music and lyrics that tapped into the emotions of the human heart at a very deep level. His music has touched the lives of country music lovers for over five decades. My prayers are with his family and I pray for the repose of his soul. May you rest in peace, brother.
For me, the first thing is script. When I heard 'Mom''s script, it really touched me and moved me. I felt really nice about the story. That's the reason I did the movie.
What did you do?” I mumble. He is just a few feet away from me now, but not close enough to hear me. As he passes me he stretches out his hand. He wraps it around my palm and squeezes. Squeezes, then lets go. His eyes are bloodshot; he is pale. “What did you do?” This time the question tears from my throat like a growl. I throw myself toward him, struggling against Peter’s grip, though his hands chafe. “What did you do?” I scream. “You die, I die too” Tobias looks over his shoulder at me. “I asked you not to do this. You made your decision. These are the repercussions.
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