[Hook: Raphael Saadiq]
Gonna miss you, gonna miss you
Tell me what went wrong
Gonna miss you, gonna miss you
You never came back home
Gonna miss you, gonna miss you
And now you're gone
No one can find you, how could this be?
Please tell me this can't be
True

[Verse 1: Rapsody]
Sometimes you got to kick rocks
Tired of you always being mad and pissed off, they saying
Now y'all cool I'm at a stage in life like Pablo
Over the handouts, know me I'm sick of
Friends like Bishop
Some days I feel like Draymond when he got tripped up
I ought to go nuts
Dress for success in the platinum gold tux
In the White House singing "we gon' be alright" all night with the POTUS
Yeah, and so I sat down wrote a Hallmark
A couple lines to touch your feelings stared at wall art
Some days I feel like Three Stacks up at that altar
International player like DeRozan I can ball hard
Real friends always pick up where they left off
If I ain't the greatest then I'm somewhere in the ballpark
Yea, catching all the flies
When n***as wanna pop up when you poppin' and wanna ride
Right? Dawg, that's why I seldom join the convoy
I can't share the word if I don't listen to their convo
Then pop, pop, pop
I hit the block and rock them with the combo
A little Pac, little rock, little neo soul and Van Gogh yea
Y'all like neighbours with the blinds closed
I see you watching bruh bruh, I'm like Neo when the time froze
Jordan in the iso
Love me I'm your idol
I turn your whole world upside down you look like Will Byers
It's a stranger thing how Prince left
Still contemplating my next step, they saying
Know when I'mma fly like doves
Y'all cry like doves, you mad cause we don't show y'all love?
"For Us By Us" Solange sang with a shoulder shrug
Becoming a master of not giving a fuck
Somewhere drinking the Reisling up, the season of the cuff
Spoon-feeding y'all, the illest is us - JamRoc
Like Tip told Phife, Mos told rap, Kobe told ball
I'mma tell all y'all I'm gonna (miss you)
Like Martin told Tommy
Frank told the tits and punanis look girl
I don't know if he gon'
Like Vine I'm repeating it
That fake beef y'all talking, we don't believe in it
The real you, that is
I don't know who all of you actors is, look homie I'mma
Be happy with yourself first
Can't be coerced in needing leathers and purses
When you price assess worthless, I'mma spit the shit
That baptize the Christians and all the churches
And those who no longer virgins, I'mma