Hold Ya Head lyrics

[Hook: 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

[Verse 1: 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 fucking tell

It don't make sense, going to heaven with the goodie-goodies

Dressed in white, I like black Timbs and black hoodies

God will probably have me on some real strict shit

No sleeping all day, no getting my dick licked

Hanging with the goodie-goodies lounging in paradise

Fuck that shit, 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 fucking abortion

[Hook - Bob Marley]

Woman hold her head and cry,

'Cause her son had been shot down in the street and died

[Verse 2: Notorious B.I.G.]

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 fucking Buddha head

The stress is building up, I can't

I can't believe suicide's on my fucking mind

I want to leave, I swear to God, I feel like death is fucking calling me

But nah, 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 Remo in Beatstreet?

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 wonder, if I died, would tears come to her eyes?

Forgive me for my disrespect, forgive me for my lies

[Hook - 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

[Verse 3: 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 niggers lying, I'm sick of bitches hawking

Matter of fact, I'm sick of talking