Texty: Notorious B. I. G.. Hold Your Head.

(Bob Marley)

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,

(Notorious B.I.G.)

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 with the goody-goodies, dressed in white, I like black Tims, and black hoodies,
God'll prolly have me on some real strict shit, no sleepin' all day, no gettin' my dick wet,
hangin' with the goody-goodies, loungin' in paradise, fuck that shit, I wanna tote guns and shoot dice,
All my life, I've 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 wish she got a fuckin' abortion...

(Bob Marley)

Woman hold her head and cry,
cause her son had been shot down in the street and died,

(Notorious B.I.G.)

I swear to God I wanna just slit my wrists and end this bullshit, load a 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' buddha head, the stress is buildin' up I can't,
I can't believe suicide's on my fuckin' mind, I wanna leave I swear to God, I feel like death is fuckin' callin' me,
but nah, you wouldn't understand

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 kiss me but she's 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...

(Bob Marley)

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,

(Notorious B.I.G.)

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'...