*featuring Kain, Kokane, Mark Curry
|
|
[Kokane begins stutter-singing the word lonely]
|
|
[P. Diddy]
|
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 I'm with is the coldest
|
Hip-hop quota but quote this
|
Back on the track again, thats whats happenin'
|
Please believe it, we on top and won't leave it
|
|
[Chorus: Kokane]
|
Sometimes I feel like I'm lonely
|
And sometimes I feel like I'm lonely
|
|
[Kain]
|
Uh, uh, yeah
|
Ey yo C-I-O-F-F-I-E
|
Q-U-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, extasy when you sex the Kain
|
I, only link with the wealthiest
|
And only cop jewels if it drop celcius
|
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!
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
[Mark Curry]
|
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
|
Cuz 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 y'all seein' ya man
|
Get a grip niggas
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
[Kokane]
|
(On guard, defend yo' self) It's lonely at the top hey hey [repeated twice]
|
|
[Kokane fades out stutter-singing the word lonely]
|
|
-----------------
|
Lonely
|
| P. Diddy |
