When I die, f uck it, I wanna go to hell
Cause I'm a piece of s hit, it ain't hard to f ucking tell
It don't make sense, going to heaven with the goodie-goodies
Dressed in white, I like black Timbs and black hoodies
God'll prolly have me on some real strict s hit
No sleeping all day, no getting my d ick licked
Hanging with the goodie-goodies lounging in paradise
F uck that s hit, I wanna tote guns and shoot dice
All my life I been considered as the worst
Lying to my mother, even stealing out her purse
Crime after crime, from drugs to extortion
I know my mother wished she got a f ucking abortion
She don't even love me like she did when I was younger
Sucking on her chest just to stop my f ucking hunger
I wonder if I died, would tears come to her eyes
Forgive me for my disrespect, forgive me for my lies
My baby mother's eight months, her little sister's two
Who's to blame for both of them
I swear to God I want to just slit my wrists and end this bulls hit
Throw the Magnum to my head, threaten to pull s hit
And squeeze, until the bed's completely red
I'm glad I'm dead, a worthless f ucking buddha head
The stress is building up, I can't
I can't believe suicide's on my f ucking mind, I wanna leave
I swear to God I feel like death is f ucking calling me
Naw you wouldn't understand
You see it's kinda like the crack did to Pookie, in New Jack
Except when I cross over, there ain't no coming back
Should I die on the train track, like Ramo in Beat Street
People at the funeral fronting like they miss me
My baby momma kissed me but she glad I'm gone
She knew me and her sister had something going on
I reach my peak, I can't speak
Call my n igga Chic, tell him that my will is weak
I'm sick of n iggas lying, I'm sick of b itches hawkin'
Matter of fact, I'm sick of talking