Sitting Home (Instrumental)

歌詞

(Puff Daddy (speaking)) The man you've all been waiting to hear Check him out (Shyne) Let it be understood Bad Boy run this Brooklyn the A T they pump this Punch you in your head With this gun shit Y'all know I be on some dumb shit I'ma cold kill the niggas that air the block out And ten chiller broads that'll wear your cock out Cost a half a mil That was me you seen hop out Stop playin, game over like a lockout Serious shit I'm the baddest Bad Boy, period shit Me and P-U-double-F in the 4 period 6 Knocking Total Carrying weight, flavor, no doubt (Pam) I'm getting tired being tired of your ways You haven't come home or even called me today You don't know the pain when I'm being alone I'm calling out your name when you're not even home (Bridge) Cause I need you with me babe Can't see you leaving me babe Cause I don't know no other road I would go And I hope your feelings change Come bring your lovin' back to me So I can give you what you need and much more (Chorus) Sitting home waiting for you 'Cause staring at these walls is all I do I try my best to be good to you But you're never around when I'm in the mood (Kisha) All my friends think that I am a fool And since you have been gone I've been thinkin so too Just tell me what it is and what you feel I do wrong We should stay together cause our love is so strong (Bridge) (Puff Daddy (speaking)) Shyne, talk to me one more time (Shyne) I think it's only right I let it be known I was on some multi-platinum melody tone Shit 'bout to bury me homes Carry my chrome Pencil bars, and Continental R's Coincidental? Nah I was meant to do this My speeches, as a foetus Meet you at your zenith, you beatless I made one you liked, wait I'll make tons You better off counting stars Than the ho's that I make come Hot to death I ain't talking rhymes I'm talking 'bout this vest, tek And the ??cult recovery west?? From the better we ball BK to 2-5 Nigga Shyne and it's too live Say you better nigga you lie want to be me, you can't fit the shoe size Ho's, room skies, young don from um, Brook-lyn, done, gone (Chorus)repeat till fade