But it's too late, it's too late    He, 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 20 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 - we 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 win-turr    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    R-R-R-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, niggaz still doin puff puff pass    Pull the truck up fast and I tell 'em    Hey, back in a touched up Jag, shit    Y'all niggaz want Killa Cam, cerebellum    An old man just gon' 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 wanna 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       Uhh, uhh, yo, yo    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 cruddy crimes    I guess I gone to the well one too many times, cause I'm gone          Uh-uh-uh    Uh-uh-uh uh uh onnn, uh uh-uh onnn    Uh-uh onnn, uh uh-uh I'mmmm    Ah-head 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 leavin it all behind    Kanye step away from the lime-    -light, 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 18-year-old    Sell drugs or get a job, you gotta play gyro    My dawg worked at Taco Bell, hooked us up plural-fied    A week later the manager count the churros    Sometimes I can't believe it when I look up in the mirrow    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'ma 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!