Luyện nghe bài hát The Morning

Givin'em and makin' love again
In my best I be the run
And I the man dem stutterin'
[Hook:
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
1: Raekwon]
Ay yo, ay yo, barbeque and blow in the of the crib
countin, smoking a spliff, this shits a gift
All my niggas is rough
Grabbing our yelling What up?
The jeans cost Fuck
it, keep baking, see, the smell its a statement
One freeze of this shit, you wont feel legs kid
Im a gangsta hustla, my voice is illustrious
Hounded by vicious dons, nigga we armed, me bruh
They yellin' Chef, the plate 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 Mark Zuckerbergs of the
Hug a knot, staying rich, we was built for the
Park the green six deuce on the deuce props
Rock a kilt, Glock Im all machinery, ock
Cling to me, now see how the scenery

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

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


[Verse 4: 2
2
Im chillin in my camo, flippin through the
On my G.O.O.D. Music shit, my a Lambo (damn)
Four doors of
Ammunition Im pitchin to make your body switch position
5: CyHi da Prynce]
I the people is listening
I never sell my soul, I gave it back to God at my christening
Its tickelin I hear what haters be whisperin
makes you think an Illuminati would ever let some niggas in?
Fake friends and siblings, like to wish you well but aint never flip the in
Haters wanna pull they pistol when see me in this race car
But you spell war without 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 show them white folks how to really pull the race
Dbanj (Kanye West, Kid Cudi)]
Yeah, you on top now, getting that money nigga?
(You sold soul)
Yeah, you feelin on top now, getting that money
(You sold soul)
Yeah, you feelin on top now, getting that money
(Naw man, mad was frontin
Aw man, made from nothing)
[Outro: West]
I the label like money from my shows
G.O.O.D. wouldve been God I added more os
If I knew she was cheatin Id bought her more clothes
I was too busy with my Baltimore- you know
Some call that the art of war you know
I guess it depends what you for
The clothes,cars, money, and the clothes
Aw money, you sold your
Nah man, mad was frontin
God damn, we something from nothing