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Notorious B.I.G.: Suicidal Thoughts | Song-Factsheet

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Song «Suicidal Thoughts» von Notorious B.I.G..

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Veröffentlichungsdaten: 1994 09 13 (Album)
Label: Bad Boy Records 78612-73000
Songwriter Robert Hall & Christopher Wallace
Produktion: Lord Finesse
Genre: Hip-Hop - Gangstarap - Thugrap, Hip-Hop - Gangstarap - Eastcoast-Renaissance

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Personen und Querverweise


Notorious B.I.G.
Robert Hall
Christopher Wallace
Lord Finesse

Lyrics

[Intro: Puff Daddy] Hello? Aw shit, nigga! 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 aight? Ah, nigga, what the fuck is wrong with you? [Verse: The 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 (What you talkin' 'bout, man?) It don't make sense, goin' to heaven with the goodie-goodies Dressed in white, I like black Timbs and black hoodies (Aw, man) God'll 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 (You talkin' some crazy shit now, nigga) All my life I been considered as the worst Lyin' to my mother, even stealin' out her purse (Ah) Crime after crime, from drugs to extortion I know my mother wish she got a fuckin' abortion She don't even love me like she did when I was younger (Yo, get a hold of yourself, nigga) 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 (You're buggin', B) My baby mother's eight months, her little sister's two Who's to blame for both of them? (Nah, nigga, not you) 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 (Nigga, what the fuck?) And squeeze until the bed's completely red (It's too late for this shit, man) I'm glad I'm dead, a worthless fuckin' buddha head The stress is buildin' up, I can't— I can't believe (Ayo, I'm on my way over there, man) 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 Nigga, talk to me please, man! 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 (Ayo, ayo, man, I'm out) Should I die on the train track like Ramo in Beat Street? (I'ma call you when I get in the car) People at the funeral frontin' like they miss me (Ayo, where your girl at, man?) My baby mama kiss me, but she glad I'm gone (Yo, put your girl on the phone, nigga!) She know me and her sister had somethin' goin' on I reach my peak, I can't speak (Ayo, you listenin' to me, motherfucker?) Call my nigga Chic, tell him that my will is weak (Ayo, c'mon, nigga) I'm sick of niggas lyin' (Cut that), I'm sick of bitches hawkin' (Ayo) Matter of fact, I'm sick of talkin' (Nigga, yo, yo, Big! Ayo, chill!) *Gunshot* Ayo, Big! Ayo, Big! [Outro] Please hang up and try your call again Please hang up— Is a recording