Luyện nghe bài hát The Morning

[Intro:

Givin'em and makin' love again
In my I be the run again
And I the man dem stutterin'

D'banj]
I'm this nigga in the morning
He gon' think he been chiefin just too long
He see me in the
to catch all these feelin
Well let me be the to get mine

[Verse 1:
Ay yo, ay yo, barbeque and blow in the back of the
Sittin'and countin', smoking a spliff, shit's a gift
All my watches is rough
Grabbing our yelling "What up? "
The cost $500? Fuck
Stop it, baking, see, the smell it's a statement
One of this shit, you won't feel your legs kid
I'm a gangsta corporate hustla, my voice is
Hounded by vicious dons, nigga we armed, me bruh
They yellin' Chef, the plate with the cooks
I say 'Ye with 2 Chainz on, we Common, Push
another bush, then burn another we brothers
Love us or not, the Mark Zuckerbergs of the
Hug a knot, staying rich, we was for the guap
the green six deuce on the deuce just props
Rock a kilt, mean I'm all machinery, ock
Cling to me, now see how the scenery

[Verse 2:
I was by a lake, chicken shack, and a church
mean the flow got wings and it come from the dirt
Golly, I she wanna test the 'Rari
Eye on a dollar Illuminati
Life is foggy, to see through the mist of it
Could been livin' it, you was Mrs. Mischievous
This is just a letter to better development
Situation

[Verse 3: T]
claim God body, blame Illuminati
All his pockets now knotty as his hair

All Sonny no Cher, solitaires
You clusterfucks cluster up
On tippy-toe and still not muster up so
Ashes to ashes, dust to
In God we trust, the is all us
the sky calls or it's flames on us

[Verse 4: 2
2
I'm chillin' in my camo, through the channel
On my G.O.O.D. Music shit, my a Lambo (damn)
Four doors of
Ammunition I'm pitchin' to make body switch another position

[Verse 5: da Prynce]
I hope the is listening
I could never my soul, I gave it back to God at my christening
It's tickelin' I hear what haters be whisperin'
What makes you an Illuminati would ever let some niggas in?
Fake and siblings, like to wish you well but ain't never flip the nickel in
wanna pull they pistol when they see me in this race car
But you can't spell war an A-R
15 I was carts at K-Mart
By 21 they said I'd be a graveyard
Can't wait to get that American Express
So I can show them white how to really pull the race card

D'banj (Kanye West, Kid Cudi)]
Yeah, you feelin' on top now, that money nigga?
(You your soul)
Yeah, you feelin' on top now, getting money nigga?
(You sold soul)
Yeah, you feelin' on top now, getting that money
(Naw man, mad people was
Aw man, made something nothing)

[Outro: West]
I treat the label like from my shows
G.O.O.D. been God except I added more o's
If I knew she was cheatin' I'd bought her more clothes
'Cause I was too busy with my bottom you know
Some people call that the art of war you
I guess it what you fallin' for
The clothes, cars, money, and the clothes
Aw money, you sold soul
Nah man, mad was frontin'
God damn, we made something nothing