Notorious B. I. G. Suicidal Thoughts lyrics
Artist
Notorious B. I. G.
Album
Ready to Die
Song
Suicidal Thoughts
Lyrics
(ring, ring)
(hello? aw sh**, nigga. what the f*** time is it, man?
Oh God damn. nigga do you know what time it is?
Aw sh**, what the f***s goin on? you alright?
Aw, nigga what the f*** is wrong wit you? )
When I die, f*** it I wanna go to hell
Cause Im a piece of sh**, it aint hard to f***in tell
It dont make sense, goin to heaven wit the goodie-goodies
Dressed in white, I like black tims and black hoodies
God will probably have me on some real strict sh**
No sleepin all day, no gettin my d*** licked
Hangin with the goodie-goodies loungin in paradise
f*** that sh**, I wanna tote guns and shoot dice
All my life I been considered as the worst
Lyin to my mother, even stealin out her purse
Crime after crime, from drugs to extortion
I know my mother wished she got a f***in abortion
She dont even love me like she did when I was younger
Suckin on her chest just to stop my f***in hunger
I wonder if I died, would tears come to her eyes?
Forgive me for my disrespect, forgive me for my lies
My babies mothers 8 months, her little sisters 2
Whos to blame for both of them (naw nigga, not you)
I swear to God I just want to slit my wrists and end this bullsh**
Throw the magnum to my head, threaten to pull sh**
And squeeze, until the beds, completely red
Im glad Im dead, a worthless f***in buddah head
The stress is buildin up, I cant,
I cant believe suicides on my f***in mind
I want to leave, I swear to God I feel like death is f***in callin me
Naw you wouldnt understand (nigga, talk to me please)
You see its kinda like the crack did to pookie, in new jack
Except when I cross over, there aint no comin back
Should I die on the train track, like remo in beatstreet
People at the funeral frontin like they miss me
My baby momma kissed me but she glad Im gone
She knew me and her sista had somethin goin on
I reach my peak, I cant speak,
Call my nigga chic, tell him that my will is weak.
Im sick of niggas lyin, Im sick of bi***es hawkin,
Matter of fact, Im sick of talkin.
(bang)
(hey yo big...hey yo big)
Date Added
2006-01-16
Views
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Views Today
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