ГлавнаяИсполнителиThe Notorious B.I.G.-Suicidal ThoughtsКогда я умру, я хочу отправиться в ад, потому что я кусок дерьма, и говорю
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Когда я умру, я хочу отправиться в ад, потому что я кусок дерьма, и говорю


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The Notorious B.I.G.-Suicidal Thoughts


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RING, RING)

(Hello? Aw [bad word]  [bad word]  What the [bad word] time is it, man?
Oh god [bad word]  [bad word] do you know what time it is?
Aw [bad word]  what the [bad word] s goin' on? You alright?
Aw, [bad word] what the [bad word] is wrong wit you?)

When I die, [bad word] it I wanna go to hell
Cause I'm a piece of [bad word]  it ain't hard to [bad word]  tell
It don't 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 [bad word] No sleepin' all day, no gettin my [bad word] licked
Hangin' with the goodie-goodies loungin' in paradise [bad word] that [bad word]  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 [bad word]  abortion
She don't even love me like she did when I was younger
Suckin' on her chest just to stop my [bad word]  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 sister's 2
Who's to blame for both of them (naw [bad word]  not you)
I swear to God I want to just slit my wrists and end this [bad word] Throw the Magnum to my head, threaten to pull [bad word] And squeeze, until the bed's, completely red
I'm glad I'm dead, a worthless [bad word]  buddah head
The stress is buildin' up, I can't,
I can't believe suicide's on my [bad word]  mind
I want to leave, I swear to God I feel like death is [bad word]  callin' me
But naw you wouldn't understand  [bad word]  talk to me please)
You see its kinda like the crack did to Pookie, in New Jack
Except when I cross 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 knew me and her sista had somethin' goin' on
I reach my peak, I can't speak,
call my [bad word] Chic, tell him that my will is weak.
I'm sick of niggas lyin', I'm sick of [bad word] hawkin',
matter of fact, I'm sick of talkin'.
(BANG)
(hey yo big...hey yo big)

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