I look at some of my fans at my show, and a lot of them look like they're straight out of a punk rock show. They like what I'm coming across with. I had seen them same thing when I went to this Scarface show, so it lets me know that I'm on the right track.

Coming up in America in the '80s and '90s, we were not too far removed from slavery. People forget that.

I study my competition for at least an hour a day. I get on the Internet, I look at what they doing, and then I look at ways to defeat them. I know their mixtapes track-by-track. I know some of their lyrics.

I'd be quiet as a mouse if I didn't have the correct feeling about my music. I feel like I'm able to talk about it and say I'm one of the best because I think I got the music to back that up. I got the live show to back that up. That's all that matters.

I knew I wanted to get married and have a family, but it was important that my husband be a Jew; I didn't want to have to explain what Hanukkah is.

What I miss the most is chatting with my friends and family and having a good laugh over a simple meal.

That's something the head scarf, in a symbolic way, is meant to do in Arabic culture: it defines your relationship to your husband and the men of your family differently than your relationship to the average guy on the street you've never met.

When I look back over my life it's almost as if there was a plan laid out for me - from the little girl who was so passionate about animals who longed to go to Africa and whose family couldn't afford to put her through college. Everyone laughed at my dreams. I was supposed to be a secretary in Bournemouth.