What's any of that mean, man?
NOTORIOUS B.I.G - SUICIDAL THOUGHTS
*Phone rings*
[Puff Daddy]
Hello? Aw, shit, ni**a. What the fuck time is it, man?
Oh, Goddamn. Ni**a, do you know what time it is?
Aw, shit. What the fuck's goin' on? You alright?
Aw, ni**a. What the fuck is wrong wit' you?
[Notorious B.I.G (Puff Daddy)]
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 Timbs 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' mother's 8 months, her little sister's 2
Who's to blame for both of them? (Naw ni**a, 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 (Ni**a, talk to me, please)
You see, it's 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 ni**a Chic, tell him that my will is weak
I'm sick of ni**as lyin', I'm sick of bitches hawkin'
Matter of fact, I'm sick of talkin'
*Gunshot*
(Hey! Yo, Big! Hey! Yo, Big!)