Today is the death anniversary of rapper Notorious BIG better known as Biggie Smalls. He wrote a song "Suicidal Thoughts" which was one of the realest songs he wrote in my eyes. Biggie had Suicidal Thoughts, but he was murdered in 1997. With that being said... I'm cosigning this song as a tribute to my nigga Biggy... "BE-BE BAAAAAABBBBBYYYY! I was wearing straight hoodies in Timbs back when this was out smoking weed and all that. I was a BAD GIRL for real! ;-)
Suicidal Thoughts - The Notorious B.I.G.
(hello? aw shit, nigga. what the fuck time is it, man?
Oh God damn. nigga do you know what time it is?
Aw shit, what the fucks goin on? you alright?
Aw, nigga what the fuck is wrong wit you? )
When I die, fuck it I wanna go to hell
Cause Im a piece of shit, it aint hard to fuckin 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 shit
No sleepin all day, no gettin my dick licked
Hangin with the goodie-goodies loungin in paradise
Fuck that shit, 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 fuckin abortion
She dont even love me like she did when I was younger
Suckin on her chest just to stop my fuckin 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 bullshit
Throw the magnum to my head, threaten to pull shit
And squeeze, until the beds, completely red
Im glad Im dead, a worthless fuckin buddah head
The stress is buildin up, I cant,
I cant believe suicides on my fuckin mind
I want to leave, I swear to God I feel like death is fuckin 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 bitches hawkin,
Matter of fact, Im sick of talkin.
(bang)
(hey yo big...hey yo big)
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