Gone Video (MV)

Wished I had told, was the only one (uh-oh)

But it's too late, it's too late

She'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 sound 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 Friday's, I still have it my way



Too late, we gone, we strivin' home

Gone, I ride on chrome

It's too late



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 somethin' on the Usher tour he had to "Let it Burn"

Plus he already got three chil'run

Arguin' over babysitters like, "Bitch, it's yo' turn!"

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

Even your superficial raps is super official

Are-are-are-Roc pastel with Gucci on

With TV's in the ride, throw a movie on

Said he couldn't rap now he at the top with doobie long

Cause the dookie's on any song that they threw me on, gone



We strivin home, gone

I ride on chrome

We strivin' home, gone

Killa, I ride on chrome



Knock knock, who's there

Killa Cam, Killa who

Killa Cam, hustler, grinder, gorilla true

Oh my chinchilla blue, blue you ever dealt with a dealer

Well here's the deal ma we goin' to the dealer

No concealin', no ceiling I don't need a roof

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

Poof, be gone, damn tough luck dag

Dag, niggas still doin' puff puff pass

Pull the truck up fast and I tell 'em

Hey, back in a touched up Jag, shit

Y'all niggas want Killa Cam, cerebellum

An old man just goin' tell 'em (Too late, he, gone)

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 (Too late, he, gone)

Yes I know you want to see my demise

Yeah you church boy actin' like a thief in disguise

Ain't leavin' my side, see the greed in my eyes

Ask Abby y'all hustle for a week to the Chi, shit

And that ain't leavin' alive, please believe me

Gave Weezy a piece of the pie, and

You can ask George or Regina

The whole Westside I explore with the Beemer now



We strivin' home, I ride on chrome

Listen homeboy move on

That's your best bet, why's that

Cause



I been pourin' out some liquor for the fact that my pal's gone

And tryin' to help his momma 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 a foul on, what coulda' gone wrong

Now they askin' Cons, how long has this gone on

And maybe all this money mighta' gone to my head

Cause they got me thinkin' money mighta' gone to the feds

So I ain't goin' to the dread, but he'll go on up to bed

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

And with that bein' said, I had gone on my instincts

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

But lookin' back now shoulda' gone to the crib

And rented "Gone With the Wind," cause I'da gone about 10

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

And heard a nigga talkin shit so I had gone to the car

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

And now we gone for 20 years, doin' 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



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 want to get my advance out

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

Yeah, I romance the thought of leavin' it all behind

Kanye step away from the limelight, like, when I was on the grind

In the "One, Nine, Nine, Nine"

Before, model chicks was bendin' 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 gyro

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 mirror

How we out in Europe, spendin' Euros

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

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

I'mma open up a store for aspiring MC's

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

But if they ever flip sides like Anakin

You'll sell everything includin' the mannequin

They got a new bitch, now you Jennifer Aniston

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

Shorty's at the door 'cause they need more

Inspiration for they life, they souls, and they songs

They said sorry Mr. West is gone