Luyện nghe bài hát Miss America

This is a public service
Brought to you by the people over at Dreamville Records
"And so my Americans
Ask not what your can do for you
Ask what you can do for country"

me

Load the clip in the chopper, the script and get Oscars
All my niggas is mobsters, all my bitches is
Cole World, just the tip of the iceberg
So talk shit and taste the tip of the
Don't trip nigga, they words
Though my words tend to sound Proverbs
Niggas don't see the preachers we dead in the hearse
Granny broke cause she givin' bread to the Church
Now Mason Betha in a Lambo
And little niggas desert eagles like they Rambo
Bumpin' my shit, wondered why they fuck with my shit
I hope it's 'bout the knowledge, not about suckin' my dick
But oh well, I'm gon' sell I had no bail
For my chain and my I should've won Nobel
Ill, boy you nigga, yeah I know nigga
Only young nigga do it better the old niggas

Took chances, slow with the devil bitch
Overcomin' the we hella rich
you all in my business, this what I tell a bitch
If you ain't fuckin' me, don't fuck with me, life on the edge
Green dollars splurged all on
My fellowship paid, don't to cop my fellas shit
hoes in the party, some Cinderella shit
Smash for the of it, livin' life on the edge

Miss America, thoughts
America, petty thoughts
Miss America, thoughts
to floss pay any and every cost
Heavy heart as I sit in Range countin' thousands out
Am I about or about change?
Am I knowledge or about brains?
Freedom or big chains, they don't feel my

on my sneakers, no remorse for the grievers
He played the corner like he should've had better defense
That's how I'm feelin', blood spillin' I love
Niggas'll swear that they it, this is as rare as it
Rap game changed, this is shit
Bunch of bitches posin' on some old America shit
I was a wilder nigga on my therapist shit
Moving as shit
In a city where niggas really don't who they hit
Who the was I?
Just a young little nigga tryin' to see the other
Of the tracks, where them scarecrows at
No brains on a nigga but they'll air your
Fuck the man, Uncle Sam I won't sell your
I won't fight your wars, I won't your hat
I'mma pass your classes, I'mma your craft
fuck your daughters, I'mma burn your flag

Took chances, slow dance with the bitch
the circumstances we hella rich
Since you all in my business, this what I tell a
If you ain't fuckin' me, don't fuck with me, this on the edge
Green splurged all on embellishments
My fellowship paid, don't to cop my fellas shit
Scoopin' hoes in the party, some Cinderella
Smash for the of it, livin' life on the edge

Miss America, petty
Miss America, petty
Miss America, thoughts
to floss pay any and every cost
Heavy heart as I sit in this Range thousands out
Am I about dollars or change?
Am I about or about brains?
Freedom or big chains, they don't feel my

They don't feel my
never feel my pain
And never play this shit on the radio