Man, I really think I was just fascinated with money... and I always wanted it growing up. I always wanted money... Once I got upwards in age, the older I got, the more fascinated I got with money.

Fascination that grows, not fades

There's something honest about admitting you want money—especially when most people dress it up in prettier language. Young Dolph's observation cuts through that polite fiction. But what's interesting is the progression he's describing: the fascination didn't fade with success or achievement. If anything, it deepened. That's worth sitting with because it flips our usual story about ambition.

We're taught that hunger for money is something you outgrow—that once you've "made it," you graduate to caring about meaning or legacy or whatever comes next. But Dolph's experience suggests the opposite for him: the more he understood what money actually does, the more compelling it became. Not obsession born from lack, but fascination born from proximity and understanding. Money stops being abstract and becomes real—a tool, a language, proof of impact.

The tension here is real for anyone who's become successful. Does the drive ever actually soften, or do you just get better at pretending it should? Dolph seems to be saying he stopped pretending. That honesty matters more than the moral high ground of seeming indifferent to wealth.