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Logic - City of Stars (Official Audio)
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Создатели

ИСПОЛНИТЕЛИ
Logic
Logic
Вокал
Steve Wyreman
Steve Wyreman
Электрогитара
Josh Lippi
Josh Lippi
Бас-гитара
Claire Courchene
Claire Courchene
Виолончель
Crystal J Torres
Crystal J Torres
Труба
Nate Mercereau
Nate Mercereau
Валторна
Kevin Randolph
Kevin Randolph
Фортепиано
Diondria Thornton
Diondria Thornton
Бэк-вокал
Christopher Thornton
Christopher Thornton
Бэк-вокал
Steve Hackett
Steve Hackett
Артист в сэмпле
Thomas Lea
Thomas Lea
Альт
МУЗЫКА И СЛОВА
Steve Hackett
Steve Hackett
Автор песен
Jim Diamond
Jim Diamond
Автор песен
Sir Robert Bryson Hall II
Sir Robert Bryson Hall II
Автор песен
ПРОДЮСЕРЫ И ЗВУКОРЕЖИССЕРЫ
Logic
Logic
Продюсер
6ix
6ix
Продюсер
Casey Cuayo
Casey Cuayo
Ассистент инженера звукозаписи
Wesley Seidman
Wesley Seidman
Ассистент инженера звукозаписи
Scott Moore
Scott Moore
Ассистент инженера звукозаписи
Ryan Reault
Ryan Reault
Ассистент инженера звукозаписи
Tyler Gordon
Tyler Gordon
Ассистент миксинг-инженера
Steve Rusch
Steve Rusch
Ассистент миксинг-инженера
Hotae Alexander Jang
Hotae Alexander Jang
Ассистент миксинг-инженера
Bobby Campbell
Bobby Campbell
Миксинг-инженер
Dave Kutch
Dave Kutch
Мастеринг-инженер

Слова

I know that you think this song is for you I used to long for you and adore you My life was just fine way back before you Now when you reach out I just ignore you 'Cause this ain't a love song (woah) This is, "So long" You did me so wrong for so long For so long, so long No I never thought I could live my life without you All you ever seem to do is scream and make it all about you And so I doubt you I doubt you even know what's on my mind I said, I doubt you I doubt you even know why I left you behind I know that I've been living I know that I've been living I know that I've been living I know that I've been living In the city of stars, where there's flying cars A brand new home for everyone and even life on Mars In the city of stars, where there's flying cars A brand new home for everyone and even life on Mars 'Cause this ain't a love song (woah) This is, "So long" You did me so wrong for so long For so long, so long And so I doubt you I doubt you even know what's on my mind I said, I doubt you I doubt you even know how I left you Yeah, uh, yeah Much love to Def Jam, even though they under-shipped me Did me like Bobby did Whitney, but the fans was with me Know my name around the world, but it still ain't hit me All the talent in the world and they still don't get me I didn't talk about my race on the whole first album But black vs. white bullshit was the still the outcome How come these motherfuckers can't seem to let it go? Judging rap by race instead of the better flow Who gives a fuck who made it? I penetrate it and innovate it While they emulate it, give a fuck if I'm hated I'ma do it 'til I get it, fuck a nominated Bitch, I dominate it Yeah, emails from Rick Rubin, dinner with No ID Chilling with B-I-G D-A-Double-D-Y K-A-N-E Not many get to what I do and now enemies Thinking they slick as fuck like the finna befriending me But let's get back to the music, I'm gone Outside of this solar system I'm searching for paradise Livin' the life, bitch, I've been a vet Fuck all these cats on the internet I love Hip Hop and I hate Hip Hop 'Cause people that love Pac hope that Drake get shot 'Cause he raps about money and bitches, for heaven's sake Pac did the same shit, just on a drum break Now I ain't wanna name names, I'm just droppin' this game We all people, all equal Now let me let off, yeah Now let me let off Tougher than raw denim, my flow you can't identify Talib said it best back in the day, we just tryna get by Two words, Mos Def, in my headphones Black on one side, now I'm in another zone Switch flows, fuck 'em up Play the game, run 'em up Yeah, I sold a couple records but people don't give a fuck All the people want is real, guess that's why Logic appeal All the power in the world, hold that, tell me how that feel? Racism on television and magazines Paying taxes so soldiers don't run out of magazines, goddamn Country don't give a fuck who I am Just a youngin' on the rise with a mic in my hand And I am, here's to the Roc The .45 Glock that my older brother pop, shot And I am, finally on top Too high up, not a drop Stop, we gettin' guap, gettin' guap I am livin' like I ain't got it Spit the flow so robotic, man who gives a fuck about it? Maryland 'til I die but I had to get the fuck up out it I love it and hate it, you probably don't know man, I doubt it
Writer(s): Robert Hall, Jim (gb) Diamond, Stephen Hackett Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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