Gone (feat. Consequence & Cam'ron)

Wished I had told

Was the only one

Uh, oh

But it's too late, it's too late he's gone

You sweat her and I ain't talkin 'bout a Coogi

You a big L and I ain't talkin 'bout Cool J

See me at the airport, at least twenty Louis

Treat me like the Prince and this my sweet brother Numpsay

Brother Numpsay!

Groupies say I'm too choosy

Take 'em to the show and talk all through the movies

Says she want diamonds, I took her to Ruby Tuesdays

If we up in Fridays, I still have it my way

Gone

We striving home

Gone

I ride on chrome

Y'all don't want no prob' from me

What you rappers could get is a job from me

Maybe you could be my intern and in turn

I'll show you how I cook up summer in the winter

Aaron love the raw dog, when will he learn?

Caught something on the Usher tour, he had to "Let it Burn"

Plus he already got three children

Arguin' over babysitters like

"Bitch, it's yo turn"

Damn, Ye, it'd be stupid to diss you

Even your superficial raps is super-official

R-R-R-Roc Pastelle with Gucci on

With TVs in the ride, throw a movie on

Said he couldn't rap, now he at the top where dude belong

‘Cause I dookied on any song that they threw me on

Gone

We striving home

Gone

I ride on chrome

Gone

We striving home

We striving home

Killa, I ride on chrome

Knock knock, who's there?

Killa Cam, Killa (Who?)

Killa Cam, hustler, grinder, guerilla (True)

Oh my chinchilla blue, blue

You ever dealt with a dealer?

Well, here's the deal, ma, we going to the dealer (Boop)

No concealing, no ceiling I don't need a roof (Roof)

Act up, get out, I don't need you (Poof, poof)

Be gone, damn tough luck, dag

Dag, **** still doing puff-puff-pass

Pull the truck up fast and I tell ‘em

Hey, back in a touched up Jag, shit

Y'all **** wanna get in Cam's cerebellum

An old man just gon' tell em (Too late)

Then I see how y'all gonna react

When I'm gone

My last girl want me back, then I'm on

Fine stay, you got the grind, hey

Came back, read what the sign say

Yes, I know you wanna see my demise

While you church boy, acting like a thief in disguise

Ain’t even my size, see the greed in my eyes

Ask Abby, I hustle, brought weed to the Chi, shit

And that ain't even a lie, please believe me

Gave Weezie a piece of the pie and

You can ask George or Regina

The whole West Side I explore with the Bimmer now

We striving home

I ride on chrome

Listen, homeboy, move on

That's your best bet, why's that, Cons'?

Yo, I been pouring out some liquor for the fact that my pal's gone

And trying to help his mama with the fact that her child gone

And since we used to bubble like a tub full of Calgon

Guess it's only right that I should help her from now on

But since they got afoul on, what could've gone wrong?

Now they asking Cons, "How long has this gone on?"

And maybe all this money mighta gone to my head

‘Cause they got me thinking money might have gone to the Feds

So I had hang to the thread, but he had gone up to bed

And when I came the next morning he was gone with my bread

And with that being said, I had gone on my instincts

And gone to the spots where they go to get mixed drinks

But looking back now, I shoulda gone to the crib

And rented Gone With the Wind, ‘cause I'da gone in by ten

But I had gone with my friend, and we had gone to the bar

And heard a **** talking shit so I had gone to the car

And now the judge is telling me that I had gone too far

And I'll be gone for twenty years doing time behind bars

And since I gone to a cell for some petty crimes

I guess I gone to the well one too many times

‘Cause I'm gone

Uh-uh-uh

Uh-uh-uh, uh

Uh on, uh, uh-uh on

Uh-uh on, uh uh-uh

I'm ahead of my time, sometimes years out

So the powers that be won't let me get my ideas out

And that make me wanna get my advance out

And move to Oklahoma and just live at my aunt's house

Yeah, I romance the thought of leaving it all behind

In the 1-9-9-9

Before model chicks was bending over

Or dealerships asked me "Benz or Rover?"

Man, if I could just get one beat on Hova

We could get up off this cheap-ass sofa

What the summer of the Chi got to offer an eighteen-year-old?

Sell drugs or get a job, you gotta play your role

My dog worked at Taco Bell, hooked us up plural

Fired a week later, the manager count the churros

Sometimes I can't believe it when I look up in the mirro'

How we out in Europe, spending Euros

They claim you never know what you got till it's gone

I know I got it, I don't know what y'all on

I'ma open up a store for aspiring MCs

Won't sell 'em no dream, but the inspiration is free

But if they ever flip sides like Anakin

You'll sell everything including the mannequin

You got a new bitch, now you Jennifer Aniston

Hold on I'll handle it, don't start panickin', stay calm

Shorties at the door ‘cause they need more

Inspiration for they life, they souls, and they songs

They said, "Sorry, Mr. West is gone"