Luyện nghe bài hát Suicidal Thoughts

Hello, aw, nigga
the fuck time is it
Oh, goddamn, nigga do you what time it is
Aw, shit, what the is going on
You Nigga what the fuck is wrong with you

When I die, fuck it I go to hell
Cause I'm a piece of shit, it ain't hard to fuckin'
It don't make sense, to heaven with the goodie-goodies
Dressed in white, I like black Tims and hoodies
God'll prolly me on some real strict shit
No sleepin' all day, no gettin' my licked
Hangin' the goodie-goodies loungin' in paradise
Fuck that shit, I wanna tote guns and dice
All my I been considered as the worst
Lyin' to my mother, even stealin' out her
Crime after crime, from to extortion
I know my mother wished she got a fucking
She don't even love me like she did I was younger
Suckin' on her chest just to stop my fuckin'
I wonder if I died, would tears come to her
Forgive me for my disrespect, forgive me for my
My baby mother's eight months, her sister's two
Who's to blame for of them, (naw nigga, not you)
I swear to God I to just slit my wrists and end this bullshit
Throw the Magnum to my head, threaten to pull
And squeeze, until the completely red
I'm glad I'm dead, a worthless fuckin' buddah
The stress is building up, I
I can't believe suicide's on my fucking mind, I wanna
I swear to God I like death is fucking calling me
Naw you wouldn't
Nigga, to me please
You see kinda like the crack did to Pookie, in New Jack
Except when I cross over, there ain't no comin'
Should I die on the train track, like Ramo in
People at the funeral fronting like they me
My baby momma kissed me but she I'm gone
She knew me and her had somethin' goin' on
I reach my peak, I can't
Call my nigga Chic, him that my will is weak
I'm sick of lying, I'm sick of bitches hawkin'
Matter of fact, I'm of talkin'

Ayo Big, ayo Big