Gonna Miss You - Rapsody, 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

Sometimes you got to kick rocks

Tired of you always being mad and pissed of, they saying

Now y’all cool I’m at a stage in life like Pablo

Over the handouts, know me I’m sicker

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 niggas wanna pop up when you poppin' and wanna ride

Right?

Dawg, that’s why I seldom join the convoy

I can’t share a 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 pop, little rock, little neo soul and Van Gogh yea

Y’all like neighbours with the blinds closed

I see you watching 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 Wil Myers

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 sing 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