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I was eight years old when my father was murdered. It is almost impossible to describe the pain of losing a parent to a senseless murder. . . But even as a child, one thing was clear to me: I didn't want the killer, in turn, to be killed. I remember lying in bed and praying, Please, God. Please don't take his life, too. I saw nothing that could be accomplished in the loss of one life being answered with the loss of another.

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Obie Trice

I just do what I'm here for and that's to make that music.