CyHi
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 n***a 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 n***as' 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, n***a, 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 n***a 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 n***a 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 n***as 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, n***a?
(You, you sold your soul)
(Hey, hey)
Yeah, you feeling on top now?
(Hey, hey)
Getting that money, n***a?
(You sold your soul)
(Woah)
Yeah, you feeling on top now?
Getting that money, n***a?
(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