[Intro / Outro:]
|
In the real world, we just people with ideas
|
|
[Verse 1:]
|
That shit cray that shit dead
|
That shit fake blast a kid
|
Cassius clay at his head
|
At a boy, at a kid
|
I'm a need a napkin, cook 'em up
|
And he gon' need a Aspirin, hook him up
|
Niggas was busy scrappin', put 'em up
|
I was too busy rapping, good as fuck
|
Niggas don't act like grown ups when niggas don't get to grow up
|
Niggas don't wanna throw hands that's what made me wanna throw up
|
But these young gunners ain't nothin' but young stunners
|
Niggas see you as come ups so niggas just wanna run up
|
Niggas asking what up, I said on my soul I'm a hundred
|
My niggas stay in the low end the others stay in the hundreds
|
My daddy told me to hate 'em my momma told me to love 'em
|
My neighbors told me they hunting I hope I make it through summer
|
They stole one of my niggas I should have seen that one coming
|
My priest told me it's angles my niggas told me it's nothing
|
I'm thinking about my nigga he thinking before he die
|
Going to work faded I'm blowing the word God
|
I'm burning up all the papers cause all the reporters lied
|
I call him my lil homie he brought him a 45
|
Brown boys are dying and none of 'em were for business
|
And all of em' love they mommas and all of they mommas miss em'
|
And this shit is just stupid this shit is fucking senseless
|
The news [?] this shit is getting expensive
|
|
[Hook:]
|
(I don't know why I sleep with my eyes wide
|
Hoping that I find you) [x3]
|
|
And hoping that I find you
|
I been hoping that I find you
|
|
(I'm missing you) [x5]
|
|
-----------------
|
Missing You
|
| Chance The Rapper |
