Letra de canción descargada de: https://www.albumcancionyletra.com ------------------------------------------ Notorious B I G - Suicidal thoughts ------------------------------------------ [RING, RING] (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 fuck´s goin´ on? You alright? Aw, nigga what the fuck is wrong wit you?) When I die, fuck it I wanna go to hell Cause I´m a piece of shit, it ain´t hard to fuckin´ 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 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 don´t 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 sister´s 2 Who´s 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 bed´s, completely red I´m glad I´m dead, a worthless fuckin´ buddah 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 Naw you wouldn´t 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 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 nigga Chic, tell him that my will is weak. I´m sick of niggas lyin´, I´m sick of bitches hawkin´, matter of fact, I´m sick of talkin´. [BANG] (hey yo big...hey yo big)