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 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 wish she got a fuckin' abortion She don't even love me like she did when I was younger Suckin' on her chest just to stop my fuckin' 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 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 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 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'