Suicidal Thoughts Lyrics

The Notorious B.I.G.


publisher: ©Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Peermusic Publishing
writers: Robert A Hall, Christopher Wallace
album: Track 17 in album Ready to Die
release date: 1994-9-13
popularity : 105 users have visited this page.
genres: Hip Hop
styles: Gangsta/Thug Rap
length: 2:51
producer: Lord Finesse
vocal: The Notorious B.I.G.
mixer: Bassy Bob Brockmann
recorded by: Bassy Bob Brockmann
composer: Christopher Wallace, Robert Hall, Jr.

Cover Art

The Notorious B.I.G. Ready to Die cover art
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Hello, aw, **** *****
What the **** time is it
Oh, goddamn, ***** do you know what time it is
Aw, ****, what the **** is going on
You alright? ***** what the **** is wrong with you

When I die, **** it I wanna go to hell
Cause I'm a piece of ****, it ain't hard to ****in' tell
It don't make sense, goin' to heaven with the goodie-goodies
Dressed in white, I like black Tims and black hoodies
God'll prolly have me on some real strict ****
No sleepin' all day, no gettin' my **** licked
Hangin' with the goodie-goodies loungin' in paradise
**** that ****, 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 ****ing abortion
She don't even love me like she did when I was younger
Suckin' on her chest just to stop my ****in' 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, (naw *****, 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 ****
And squeeze, until the bed's completely red
I'm glad I'm dead, a worthless ****in' buddah head
The stress is building up, I can't
I can't believe suicide's on my ****ing mind, I wanna leave
I swear to God I feel like death is ****ing calling me
Naw you wouldn't understand
*****, talk to me please
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 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 somethin' goin' on
I reach my peak, I can't speak
Call my ***** Chic, tell him that my will is weak
I'm sick of *****s lying, I'm sick of *****es hawkin'
Matter of fact, I'm sick of talkin'

Ayo Big, ayo Big


Track Listing


CD 1
  • 1 Intro
  • 2 Things Done Changed
  • 3 Gimme the Loot
  • 4 Machine Gun Funk
  • 5 Warning
  • 6 Ready to Die
  • 7 One More Chance
  • 8 Fuck Me (interlude)
  • 9 The What
  • 10 Juicy
  • 11 Everyday Struggle
  • 12 Me & My Bitch
  • 13 Big Poppa
  • 14 Respect
  • 15 Friend of Mine
  • 16 Unbelievable
  • 17 Suicidal Thoughts