Luyện nghe bài hát The Morning

Givin'em rest and love again
In my best I be the run
And I the man dem stutterin'
D'banj]
I'm getting this nigga in the
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
Sittinand countin, smoking a spliff, this a gift
All my niggas watches is
Grabbing our yelling What up?
The jeans cost $500?
Stop it, keep baking, see, the smell its a
One freeze of this shit, you wont your legs kid
Im a gangsta corporate hustla, my is illustrious
Hounded by dons, nigga we armed, trust me bruh
They yellin' Chef, kill the plate the cooks
I say 'Ye 2 Chainz on, we Common, let's Push
Burn another bush, then burn we brothers
us or not, the Mark Zuckerbergs of the block
Hug a knot, rich, we was built for the guap
Park the green six deuce on the deuce just
Rock a kilt, Glock Im all machinery, ock
to me, now see how the scenery rock?

[Verse 2:
I was born by a 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 like Illuminati
is foggy, tryin to see through the mist of it
Could have been livin it, you was Mrs.
This is just a to better your development
delicate
[Verse 3: T]
Some claim God body, Illuminati
All cause his pockets now as his hair

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


[Verse 4: 2
2
Im in my camo, flippin through the channel
On my G.O.O.D. Music shit, my a Lambo (damn)
doors of ammo
Ammunition Im pitchin to make your switch another position
[Verse 5: CyHi da
I hope the is listening
I could never sell my soul, I gave it to God at my christening
Its tickelin when I hear what haters be
makes you think an Illuminati would ever let some niggas in?
Fake friends and siblings, like to wish you well but aint flip the nickel in
Haters wanna pull pistol when they see me in this race car
But you cant spell war an A-R
15 I was pushing at K-Mart
By 21 they said Id be a graveyard
Cant wait to get that black Express
So I can show white folks how to really 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 that money
(You your soul)
Yeah, you feelin on top now, that money nigga?
(Naw man, mad people was
Aw man, made something nothing)
Kanye West]
I treat the label like money from my
G.O.O.D. wouldve been God except I added os
If I knew she was cheatin Id stillve her more clothes
I was too busy with my Baltimore- you know
Some people call the art of war you know
I it depends what you fallin for
The clothes,cars, money, girls and the
Aw money, you sold your
Nah man, mad people was
God damn, we made from nothing