Luyện nghe bài hát The Morning

[Intro:

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

[Hook:
I'm getting nigga in the morning
He gon' he been chiefin just too long when
He see me in the
Want to catch all feelin
Well let me be the first to get

[Verse 1:
Ay yo, ay yo, and blow in the back of the crib
Sittin'and countin', smoking a spliff, shit's a gift
All my niggas watches is
our crotches yelling "What up? "
The jeans cost Fuck
it, keep baking, see, the smell it's a statement
One freeze of this shit, you won't feel your kid
I'm a gangsta corporate hustla, my is illustrious
Hounded by vicious dons, nigga we armed, trust me
They yellin' Chef, kill the with the cooks
I say 'Ye with 2 on, we Common, let's Push
Burn another bush, then burn we brothers
Love us or not, the Zuckerbergs of the block
Hug a knot, staying rich, we was for the guap
the green six deuce on the deuce just props
Rock a kilt, Glock I'm all machinery, ock
to me, now see how the scenery rock?

[Verse 2:
I was born by a lake, shack, and a church
That mean the got wings and it come from the dirt
Golly, I know she wanna the 'Rari
Eye on a dollar like
Life is foggy, tryin' to see the mist of it
have been livin' it, you was Mrs. Mischievous
This is just a to better your development
Situation

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

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

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

[Verse 5: da Prynce]
I hope the is listening
I could never sell my soul, I gave it back to God at my
It's tickelin' when I hear what haters be
What makes you think an would ever let some niggas in?
Fake friends and siblings, like to wish you well but ain't flip the nickel in
Haters wanna pull they pistol when they see me in race car
But you can't war without an A-R
15 I was pushing 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 folks how to pull the race card

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

Kanye West]
I treat the label money from my shows
G.O.O.D. would've God except I added more o's
If I she was cheatin' I'd still've bought her more clothes
'Cause I was too busy my bottom whore- you know
people call that the art of war you know
I guess it depends you fallin' for
The clothes, cars, money, and the clothes
Aw money, you sold soul
Nah man, mad was frontin'
God damn, we something from nothing