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Hold Ya Head (Featuring Bob Marley) [Explicit Version]
The Notorious B.I.G. & Bob Marley
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Lyrics
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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
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 goodie-goodies
Dressed in white, I like black Timbs and black hoodies
God'll probably have me on some real strict shit
No sleepin' all day, no getting 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 of her purse
Crime after crime, from drugs to extortion
I know my mother wish she got a fuckin' abortion
Woman hold her head and cry
'Cause her son had been shot down in the street and died
I swear to God I wanna 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 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 (understand)
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 Ramo in Beat Street
People at the funeral frontin' like they miss me
My baby mama kiss me but she 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
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
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'
(Talkin', talkin', talkin')
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