Hold Ya Head (feat. 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
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 wit' the goodie-goodies
Dressed in white, I like black Tims and black hoodies
God will 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
All my life I 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 wished 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 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 fuckin' buddah head
The stress is buildin' up, I can't,
I can't believe suicide's on my fuckin' mind
I want to leave, I swear to God I feel like death is fuckin' callin' me
Naw you wouldn't understand
You see its 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 kissed me but she glad I'm gone
She knew 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 niggaz lyin', I'm sick of bitches hawkin'
Matter of fact, I'm sick of talkin'
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 wit' the goodie-goodies
Dressed in white, I like black Tims and black hoodies
God will 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
All my life I 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 wished 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 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 fuckin' buddah head
The stress is buildin' up, I can't,
I can't believe suicide's on my fuckin' mind
I want to leave, I swear to God I feel like death is fuckin' callin' me
Naw you wouldn't understand
You see its 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 kissed me but she glad I'm gone
She knew 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 niggaz lyin', I'm sick of bitches hawkin'
Matter of fact, I'm sick of talkin'
Credits
Writer(s): Christopher Wallace, Rita Anderson Marley, Lord Finesse, Robert A. Hall
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
- B.I.G. Live In Jamaica (Intro) - Amended
- It Has Been Said - feat. Diddy, Eminem and Obie Trice Amended
- Spit Your Game (feat. Twista and Bone Thugs N Harmony)
- Whatchu Want - The Commission feat. Jay-Z and Notorious B.I.G. Amended
- Get Your Grind On - feat. Big Pun, Fat Joe and Freeway Amended
- Living The Life (feat. Snoop Dogg, Ludacris, Faith Evans, Cheri Dennis and Bobby V)
- The Greatest Rapper - Interlude
- 1970 Somethin' - feat. The Game and Faith Evans Amended
- Living In Pain - feat. 2Pac, Mary J. Blige and Nas Amended
- I'm With Whatever
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.