Hold Ya Head (feat. Bob Marley) chords by The Notorious B.I.G.

SimplifiedEm · Am · D · C · Bm …

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Verse 1

Woman hold her head and cry

Cause her son had been shot down

in the street and died

Verse 2

Woman hold her head and cry

'Cause her son had been shot down

in the street and died

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Verse 3
E 
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
Em 
loungin' in paradise
E 
Fuck that shit,
I wanna tote guns and shoot dice
C 
All my life I been considered
as the worst
Lyin' to my mother,
even stealin' out her purse
Bm 
Am 
Crime after crime,
from drugs to extortion
G 
I know my mother wished she got
D 
a fuckin' abortion

Verse 4

Woman hold her head and cry

Cause her son had been shot down

in the street and died

I swear

Verse 5
Em 
to God I just want to (slit) my wrists
E 
and end this bullshit
Throw the Magnum to my head,
threaten to pull shit
And squeeze, until the bed's,
completely red
Em 
E 
I'm glad I'm (dead), a worthless
fuckin' buddah head
The stress is buildin' up, I can't,
Em 
E 
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
Em 
You see its kinda like the crack
E 
did to Pookie, in New Jack
Except when I cross over,
there ain't no comin' back
Em 
Should I die on the train track,
like Remo in Beatstreet
D 
People at the funeral frontin'
C 
like they miss me
My baby momma kissed me but she
glad I'm gone
She knew me and her sister had
Am 
somethin' goin' on
I wonder if I died,
G 
would tears come to her eyes?
D 
Forgive me for my disrespect,
F#m 
Em 
for   give me for my lies

Verse 6
D 
Woman hold her head and cry
C 
Bm 
Cause her son had been shot down in the
D 
Am 
G 
D 
street and died
Em 
D 
C 
Bm 

Verse 7
D 
Am 
D 
Em 
I reach my peak,
I can't speak,
Call my nigga Chic,
tell him that my will is weak
C 
I'm sick of niggaz lyin', I'm sick
of bitches hawkin'
B 
Matter of fact,
I'm sick of talkin' [echoes]
D 
Em 