Earlier tonight I was prepping for a case, and while reading the Pennsylvania Criminal Code and going over my notes, I found myself listening to some Biggie Smalls (Yes my old ass listens to Biggie).
Usually I can work with music in the background and it doesn't bother me. But then this one song came on and...well I stopped working and started listening to it. I have heard the song before and I always kind of liked it. But tonight, for some reason, I found myself paying attention to the lyrics.
"[RING, RING]('Hello? Aw shit, nigga. What the fuck time is it, man? Oh god damn. Nigga do you know what time it is? Aw shit, what the fuck's goin' on? You alright? Aw, nigga what the fuck is wrong wit you?')
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 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 babies' mothers 8 months, her little sister's 2 Who's to blame for both of them ('naw nigga, not you')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 ('nigga, talk to me please')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 Beat street 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 sista 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'. [BANG]"
Damn! A suicide note for an entire generation.
Sometimes it pays to just listen.