Missing You

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 mamma 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 angels my niggas told me it’s nothing
I’m thinking about my nigga he thinking before he die
Going to war with fate and I’m going to war with God
I’m burning up all the papers 'cause all the reporters lied
I call him my lil homie he bought him a 45
Brown boys are dying and none of 'em were for business
And all of em' love they mamas and all of they mamas miss em'
And this shit is just stupid this shit is fucking senseless
The news shouldn’t support it, this shit is getting expensive
(I don’t know why I sleep with my eyes wide
Hoping that I find you)
And hoping that I find you
I been hoping that I find you
(I'm missing you)