Vídeo da música

P.Diddy Kain. Mark Curry & Kokaine - Lonely
Assista ao videoclipe da música {trackName} de {artistName}

Apresentado no

Créditos

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Mark Curry
Mark Curry
Vocals
Kain Cioffie
Kain Cioffie
Vocals
Kokane
Kokane
Vocals
Mario Winans
Mario Winans
All Instruments
Diddy
Diddy
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Mark Curry
Mark Curry
Songwriter
Kain Cioffie
Kain Cioffie
Songwriter
Mario Winans
Mario Winans
Songwriter
Sean Combs
Sean Combs
Songwriter
Jerry Long
Jerry Long
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Mario Winans
Mario Winans
Producer
Brian Kraz
Brian Kraz
Assistant Engineer
Paul Logus
Paul Logus
Mixing Engineer
Franklin Socorro
Franklin Socorro
Recording Engineer
Jim Janik
Jim Janik
Recording Engineer
Chris Athens
Chris Athens
Mastering Engineer
Sean Combs
Sean Combs
Producer

Letra

This goes out to my nigga B.I.G. Listen to me playboy, check dis out I go, on and on and on and Won't take her to the crib unless she's bonin' PD call her on the phone and Promise I'll leave her moanin' Now she zonin' Tellin' me she's all alone and Love the dark chocolate tone and Ahead of my time, I live what's said in my rhymes The cars and the chedda is mine We ain't, the type to sit back and lose focus Spit that mack-a-docious Most ferocious Cash all in my holsters Burn more bread than toasters You must know this, the cats 'm with is the coldest Hip-hop quota but quote this Back on the track again, that's what's happenin' Please believe it, we on top and won't leave it Sometimes I feel like I'm lonely And sometimes I feel like I'm lonely Uh, uh, yeah Hey yo see-I-O-F-F-I-E Q-you-double E-N-Z Come on ma your riding with me Leave the lame respect the game When you hanging on my arm you expect the same And, ecstasy when you sex the Kain I, only link with the wealthiest And only cop jewels if it drop Celsius Now, you can run but you can never hide But, where you go when the temperature rise It's Bad Boy see death in ya eyes Kain Cioffe the next on the rise Damagin' shit hot stamina split You got screwball raps we the hammerin' clique Limo, the club, and the cameras'll flip Money, music women son we standin' in it HA! Yo, yo, yo, yo Don't panic, don't take this for granted I did then still do and always ran it A lot to gain when I say I'm off the chain The shit I spit, burn flames Who's controllin' this I can make the bitches grin Cause I get money and run with the richest men Knockin' at ya door it's Curry again Been down since the jump off begin You know who I am Don't get it all twisted up Get the cash to my hands be all blistered up We can pick it up, we can drop it low Recognize what it is when I come through the door Not partyin' and pimpin', I walk wit a limp Once I took it to the top I ain't fell off since Stay high stay fly stay cool in the fan Ain't none of yall seein' ya man Get a grip niggas (On guard, defend your self) It's lonely at the top hey hey
Writer(s): Sean Combs, Mario Winans, Matthew Weinberg, Mark Curry, Jamel Naquaan Fisher, Jerry B. Long Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out