Suicidal Thoughts Lofi

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 prob'ly 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'