Vídeo musical

This Morning (feat. Arin Ray & Smino)
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Créditos

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Terrace Martin
Terrace Martin
Keyboards
Kenneth Crouch
Kenneth Crouch
Rhodes Piano
Arin Ray
Arin Ray
Vocals
Kiefer Shackelford
Kiefer Shackelford
Keyboards
Salaam Remi
Salaam Remi
Beatbox
Marlon M. Williams
Marlon M. Williams
Guitar
Rose Gold
Rose Gold
Background Vocals
Smino
Smino
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Terrace Martin
Terrace Martin
Composer
Kiefer Shackelford
Kiefer Shackelford
Composer
Marlon M. Williams
Marlon M. Williams
Composer
Christopher Smith Jr.
Christopher Smith Jr.
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Terrace Martin
Terrace Martin
Producer
Kenneth Crouch
Kenneth Crouch
Producer
Bryan Dimaio
Bryan Dimaio
Recording Engineer
Rick Carson
Rick Carson
Recording Engineer
Arin Ray
Arin Ray
Producer
Mike Bozzi
Mike Bozzi
Recording Engineer

Letras

Woke up this morning Found my peace of mind Finally, I can say to you That I, feel good this morning No, I can't deny So finally I can lay with you And feel, feel the pleasure Finally do what lovers do, with you, babe Ride for two Don't you know, oh So we (so we) can roll how we want to, yeah Set fire to the fucking pavement They bound to drown so they can't relate And just do what I say, do what I say, no My baby got her own fuckin' ways now Tellin' y'all she ain't fuckin' playin', ay Ain't need no problems from her man I know she ain't worried (she ain't worried) Ooh Da, da, da, da Ah, oh, ooh Da, da-da, da Why you never ready When I called you, told you I'd be on my way Two hours, you still dancing In the mirror, come outside I got a minimalist shawty She don't want me smoking my grabba leaf But her banana leaf's sorry I was rollin' up on her vanity She got to telling these stories How she finally found some sanity And these hatin' hoes must be off that good cane, that danity And it donned on me Like 6:00 a.m. over dewy grass and my doobie rolled That (she might be) addicted to the lights (she might be) A victim of the likes (she might be) A rid of my vibe But she colder than shoulders of gold digging hoes When a broke nigga approaching, but she cold She colder when nigga like me ain't around to come light up, and Set fire to the fucking pavement They bound to drown so they can't relate And just do what I say, do what I say, no My baby got her own fuckin' ways now Tellin' y'all she ain't fuckin' playin' Ain't need no problems from her man I know she ain't worried (she ain't worried) (Ooh) set fire to the fucking pavement They bound to drown so they can't relate And just do what I say, do what I say, no My baby got her own fuckin' ways now Tellin' y'all she ain't fuckin' playin' Ain't need no problems from her man I know she ain't worried (she ain't worried) (Ooh) mornin'
Writer(s): Terrace Martin, Arin Ray, Kiefer Shackelford, Marlon Williams, Christopher Smith, Kenneth Crouch Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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