I hope you hear me I hope you hear me, yes I do When it rains I think of you And when it pours you know it's true That it's all gone It's all gone I breathe in all the air And you say it's wrong And I say it's fair But it's all gone It's all gone This is how it feels to be out of ideas My biggest fears have materialized in the past year I used to see things clear in the voodoo that you may hear But the objects in the rear view mirror are closer than they appear How long does it take for you to form closure with no distractions And was it a consequence of hostile shit or your own actions When prophets turn into comets crashing into all the comments Someone will smell the tasty profit cuz there's always snakes in the cockpit They can smell the dope funds with they own tongue Turn gold into dung Folk talking on radio show like they got crack smoke in they lungs If my story is already sung just ignore me, it's all dumb It's all numb But when you make it out of Richmond all them yard signs show up On the front lawn it says "not in my backyard" But you don't understand though I done glowed up If you think something's wrong you're just broke that's all Bullshit Bullshit but who really cares When the city needs me I'm gone completely, a ways away Somewhere near Bel-Air But check the T.V., you'll see me, I'm right there But when it rains I still think of you baby I still think of you shawty I still think of you But when it pours I still think of you darling I still think of you When it rains I think of you And when it pours you know it's true But it's all gone It's all gone I breathe in all the air And you say it's wrong And I say it's fair But it's all gone It's all gone Pump your fists like this Holler if you hear me Pump, pump if you're pissed This is a sinking ship I wouldn't have faith in this at all I hope my lips stay zipped You don't need to hear it now You don't need to hear me now Everyone here is fake and I think they're all trying to kill me In some roundabout way I can explain simply, so not really Albany kids is filthy I can smell the fuckin' N.I.M.B.Y. signs The devil lies in pretty eyes, at least that's how it feels I'm one of those freaks as well but I try not to kill with cheap thrills If I was back in the Fruitvale and slinging white crystals Hell, they'd probably still take my neighbor to jail And deport his ass cuz O.P.D. does not really care This residential district was made to excel, you fuckin dingus