Luyện nghe bài hát The Morning

Givin'em and makin' love again
In my I be the run again
And I have the man dem
D'banj]
I'm this nigga in the morning
He gon' think he been chiefin just too long
He see me in the
Want to all these feelin
Well let me be the to get mine
[Verse 1:
Ay yo, ay yo, and blow in the back of the crib
countin, smoking a spliff, this shits a gift
All my niggas watches is
Grabbing our yelling What up?
The jeans cost $500?
Stop it, baking, see, the smell its a statement
One freeze of shit, you wont feel your legs kid
Im a corporate hustla, my voice is illustrious
Hounded by vicious dons, nigga we armed, trust me
They yellin' Chef, the plate with the cooks
I say 'Ye with 2 Chainz on, we Common, let's
another bush, then burn another we brothers
Love us or not, the Mark Zuckerbergs of the
Hug a knot, rich, we was built for the guap
Park the green six deuce on the deuce just
Rock a kilt, mean Im all machinery, ock
Cling to me, now see how the rock?

[Verse 2:
I was born by a chicken shack and a church
That mean the flow got wings and it come the dirt
Golly, I she wanna test the Rari
Eye on a dollar Illuminati
Life is foggy, to see through the mist of it
have been livin it, you was Mrs. Mischievous
This is a letter to better your development
delicate
[Verse 3: T]
Some claim God body, Illuminati
All cause his now knotty as his hair

All Sonny no Cher, solitaires
You clusterfucks could up
On and still not muster up so its
to ashes, dust to dust
In God we trust, the is all us
Til the sky or its flames on us


[Verse 4: 2
2
Im chillin in my camo, flippin the channel
On my G.O.O.D. shit, my logos a Lambo (damn)
doors of ammo
Ammunition Im pitchin to make body switch another position
5: CyHi da Prynce]
I hope the is listening
I could sell my soul, I gave it back to God at my christening
Its tickelin when I hear haters be whisperin
What 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 they 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 Id be inside a graveyard
Cant wait to get that black Express
So I can them white folks how to really pull the race card
Dbanj (Kanye West, Kid Cudi)]
Yeah, you on top now, getting that money nigga?
(You sold soul)
Yeah, you on top now, getting that money nigga?
(You your soul)
Yeah, you feelin on top now, that money nigga?
(Naw man, mad was frontin
Aw man, made something nothing)
[Outro: Kanye
I treat the label like from my shows
G.O.O.D. wouldve been God I added more os
If I knew she was cheatin Id stillve her more clothes
Cause I was too busy with my Baltimore- you
Some people that the art of war you know
I guess it what you fallin for
The clothes,cars, money, girls and the
Aw money, you your soul
Nah man, mad was frontin
God damn, we made from nothing