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