The Notorious B.I.G - I Wanna Go to Hell | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• The Notorious B.I.G
• I Wanna Go to Hell

When I die, fuck it, I wanna go to hell
Cause 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'll prolly have me on some real strict shit
No sleeping all day, no getting my dick licked
Hanging with the goodie-goodies lounging in paradise
Fuck that shit, I wanna tote guns and shoot dice

All my life I 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 wished she got a fucking abortion
She don't even love me like she did when I was younger

Sucking on her chest just to stop my fucking hunger
I wonder if I died, would tears come to her eyes
Forgive me for my disrespect, forgive me for my lies
My baby mother's eight months, her little sister's two
Who's to blame for both of them

I swear to God I want to just slit my wrists and end this bullshit
Throw the Magnum to my head, threaten to pull shit

And squeeze, until the bed's completely red

I'm glad I'm dead, a worthless fucking buddha head
The stress is building up, I can't

I can't believe suicide's on my fucking mind, I wanna leave
I swear to God I feel like death is fucking calling me
Naw you wouldn't understand

You see it's kinda like the crack did to Pookie, in New Jack
Except when I cross over, there ain't no coming back

Should I die on the train track, like Ramo in Beat Street
People at the funeral fronting like they miss me
My baby momma kissed me but she glad I'm gone

She knew me and her sister had something going on
I reach my peak, I can't speak

Call my nigga Chic, tell him that my will is weak
I'm sick of niggas lying, I'm sick of bitches hawkin'
Matter of fact, I'm sick of talking...