Видео

P.Diddy Kain. Mark Curry & Kokaine - Lonely
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В составе

Создатели

ИСПОЛНИТЕЛИ
Mark Curry
Mark Curry
Вокал
Kain Cioffie
Kain Cioffie
Вокал
Kokane
Kokane
Вокал
Mario Winans
Mario Winans
Все инструменты
Diddy
Diddy
Вокал
МУЗЫКА И СЛОВА
Mark Curry
Mark Curry
Автор песен
Kain Cioffie
Kain Cioffie
Автор песен
Mario Winans
Mario Winans
Автор песен
Sean Combs
Sean Combs
Автор песен
Jerry Long
Jerry Long
Автор песен
ПРОДЮСЕРЫ И ЗВУКОРЕЖИССЕРЫ
Mario Winans
Mario Winans
Продюсер
Sean Combs
Sean Combs
Продюсер
Brian Kraz
Brian Kraz
Ассистент инженера
Paul Logus
Paul Logus
Миксинг-инженер
Franklin Socorro
Franklin Socorro
Инженер звукозаписи
Jim Janik
Jim Janik
Инженер звукозаписи
Chris Athens
Chris Athens
Мастеринг-инженер

Слова

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
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