Kanye West — The Morning

[Produced by !llmind, co-produced by Kanye West, Travi$ Scott, and Jeff Bhasker] [Intro: D'banj] Stuttering Give 'em the rest and make 'em love again In my best, I be the runner dem And I have the man dem stuttering-ing [Chorus: Andrea Martin] I'm getting this nigga in the morning He gon' think he been chiefing, just too long when He see me in the evening Wanna catch all these feelings Well, let me be the first to get mine, oh [Verse 1: Raekwon] Yeah, ayy, yo, ayy, yo Barbeque and blow in the back of the crib Sitting and counting, smoking a spliff, this shit's a gift All my niggas' watches is rough Grabbin' our crotches, yellin', "What up?" The jeans cost five hundred? Fuck Stop it, keep baking, see the smell, it's a statement One freeze of this shit, you won't feel your legs, kid I'm a gangster, corporate hustler, my voice is illustrious Hounded by vicious dons, nigga, we armed, trust me, bruh They yellin', "Chef killer, play with the cooks" I say, "Yay", with two chains on, we common, let's push Burn another bush then burn another, we brothers Love us or not, the Mark Zuckerbergs of the block Hug a knot, staying rich, we was built for the guap Park the green six deuce on the deuce, just props Rock a kilt, mean Glock, I'm all machinery, ock Cling to me, now see how the scenery rock, yo? [Chorus: Andrea Martin] I'm getting this nigga in the morning He gon' think he been chiefing, just too long when He see me in the evening Wanna catch all these feelings Well, let me be the first to get mine, oh [Verse 2: Common & Andrea Martin] I was born by a lake, chicken shack and a church That mean the flow got wings and it come from the dirt Godly, I know she wanna test the 'Rari Eye on a dollar like Illuminati Life is foggy, trying to see through the mist of it Could have been living it, you was Mrs. Mischievous This is just a letter to better your development (Oh) Situation delicate [Verse 3: Pusha T] Some claim God body, blame Illuminati All 'cause his pockets now knotty as his hair, yeah All Sonny, no Cher, only solitaires You clusterfucks could cluster up On tippy-toe and still not muster up So it's (Ashes to ashes, dust to dust) In God we trust, the game is all us 'Til the sky calls or it's flames on us, Push [Chorus: Andrea Martin & 2 Chainz] I'm getting this nigga in the morning He gon' think he been chiefing, just too long when He see me in the evening (Yeah) Wanna catch all these feelings (True) Well, let me be the first to get mine, oh (2 Chainz) [Verse 4: 2 Chainz] 2 Chainz I'm chilling in my camo, I'm flipping through the channel (Channel) On my G.O.O.D. Music shit, my logo's a Lambo (Damn) Four doors of ammo Ammunition, I'm pitching To make your body switch another position [Verse 5: Cyhi the Prynce] Yeah I hope the people is listening I could never sell my soul, I gave it back to God at my christening It's tickling when I hear what haters be whispering What makes you think the Illuminati would ever let some niggas in? Huh, fake friends and siblings Like to wish you well but ain't never flicked a nickel in Haters wanna pull they pistol when they see me in this race car But you can't spell war without a A-R 15, I was pushing carts at K-Mart By 21, they said I'd be inside a graveyard Can't wait to get that black American Express So I can show them white folks how to really pull the race card [Bridge: Kid Cudi & Kanye West] (Woah) Yeah, you feeling on top now? Getting that money, nigga? (You, you sold your soul) (Hey, hey) Yeah, you feeling on top now? (Hey, hey) Getting that money, nigga? (You sold your soul) (Woah) Yeah, you feeling on top now? Getting that money, nigga? (Hey, hey) Nah, man, mad people was fronting (Hey, hey) Aw, man, made something from nothing [Verse 6: Kanye West] I treat the label like money from my shows G.O.O.D. would have been G.O.D., except I added more O's If I knew she was cheating and still bought her more clothes It's cause I was too busy with my Baltimore, you know Some people call that the art of war, you know I guess it depends what you falling for, the clothes? Cars, money, girls and the clothes All money, you sold your soul Nah, man, mad people was fronting God damn, we made something from nothing