I don't train like a mixed martial artist. I don't respect the sport like everyone else does.

I go in to fight just to fight. I don't care about submissions, the technique and all of that.

My heart outweighs all the talent. If they've got more talent, I believe that my heart will still overcome that. You've got to have heart to step inside the octagon anyway.

If I'm the champion, the whole UFC division should be ashamed of themselves for a guy that had no damn skills being the champion. They should all just go relocate somewhere.

That's what really gets me going, thinking about my past. I think about all the tough times and bad times I've had in my life and I bring all that into the Octagon. That's only because it's hard going in there trying to fight someone who didn't do anything to you.

I don't care if I am ever remembered in this sport for anything.

Since I was probably eight years old, just about everyday, all the way until I was 14 or 15 years old, just about everyday my mom and my stepdad would roll around in the living room fighting.

In 2010, Strikeforce came to Houston, and DC was something like 5-0 or 6-0, and I'd seen him at the expo. I seen him walking around and I seen he had a pink cast on his hand, and I was like, this guy is way too fat... because he looked shorter and fatter. Because back then I was slim, I was like 235. So, I was like, man, I could take this guy.