Woorden: Notorious B.I.G.. Duet. Hold Ya Head.
Woman hold her head and cry
'Cause her son had been shot down in the street and died
Woman hold her head and cry
'Cause her son had been shot down in the street and died
When I die fuck it I want to go to hell
'Cuz I'm a piece of shit it ain't hard to fucking tell
It don't make sense going to heaven with the goodie goodies
Dressed in white, I like black timbs and black hoodies
God would probably have me on some real strict shit
No sleepin' all day, no getting my dick licked
Hanging with the goodie goodies loungin' in the paradise
Fuck that shit I want to tote guns and shoot dice
All my life I've been considered as the worst
Lying to my mother even stealing out her purse
Crime after crime from drugs to extortion
I know my mother wish she got a fucking abortion
Woman hold her head and cry
'Cause her son had been shot down in the street and died
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
I'm glad I'm dead, a worthless fuckin' buddha-head
The stress is buildin' up, I can't
I can't believe suicide's on my fuckin' mind
I want to leave, I swear to God I feel like death is fuckin' callin' me
But naw, you wouldn't understand
You see it's kinda like the crack did to Pookie, in New Jack
Except when I crush over, there ain't 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 I'm gone
She know me and her sister had somethin' goin' on
I wonder if I died, would tears come to her eyes?
Forgive me for my disrespect, forgive me for my lies
Woman hold her head and cry
'Cause her son has been shot down in the street and died
Woman hold her head and cry
'Cause her son has been shot down in the street and died
I reach my peak, I can't speak
Call my nigga Cheek, tell him that my will is weak
I'm sick of niggaz lyin', I'm sick of bitches hawkin'
Matter of fact, I'm sick of talkin'
'Cause her son had been shot down in the street and died
Woman hold her head and cry
'Cause her son had been shot down in the street and died
When I die fuck it I want to go to hell
'Cuz I'm a piece of shit it ain't hard to fucking tell
It don't make sense going to heaven with the goodie goodies
Dressed in white, I like black timbs and black hoodies
God would probably have me on some real strict shit
No sleepin' all day, no getting my dick licked
Hanging with the goodie goodies loungin' in the paradise
Fuck that shit I want to tote guns and shoot dice
All my life I've been considered as the worst
Lying to my mother even stealing out her purse
Crime after crime from drugs to extortion
I know my mother wish she got a fucking abortion
Woman hold her head and cry
'Cause her son had been shot down in the street and died
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
I'm glad I'm dead, a worthless fuckin' buddha-head
The stress is buildin' up, I can't
I can't believe suicide's on my fuckin' mind
I want to leave, I swear to God I feel like death is fuckin' callin' me
But naw, you wouldn't understand
You see it's kinda like the crack did to Pookie, in New Jack
Except when I crush over, there ain't 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 I'm gone
She know me and her sister had somethin' goin' on
I wonder if I died, would tears come to her eyes?
Forgive me for my disrespect, forgive me for my lies
Woman hold her head and cry
'Cause her son has been shot down in the street and died
Woman hold her head and cry
'Cause her son has been shot down in the street and died
I reach my peak, I can't speak
Call my nigga Cheek, tell him that my will is weak
I'm sick of niggaz lyin', I'm sick of bitches hawkin'
Matter of fact, I'm sick of talkin'
Notorious B. I. G.
Duet
Notorious B. I. G.
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