Luyện nghe bài hát Miss America

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

me

Load the clip in the chopper, flip the script and get
All my niggas is mobsters, all my is doctors
World, this just the tip of the iceberg
So talk shit and the tip of the Mossberg
trip nigga, they just words
Though my tend to sound like Proverbs
don't see the preachers 'til we dead in the hearse
Granny broke cause she always givin' to the Church
Now pastor Mason Betha in a
And little niggas holdin' desert eagles they Rambo
Bumpin' my shit, always wondered why they with my shit
I hope it's 'bout the knowledge, not who's suckin' my dick
But oh well, I'm gon' like I had no bail
For my and my piece I should've won Nobel
Ill, boy you cold nigga, yeah I nigga
Only young nigga do it better than the old

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

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

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

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

Miss America, thoughts
Miss America, thoughts
America, petty thoughts
Just to floss pay any and cost
Heavy heart as I sit in Range countin' 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
They'll feel my pain
And they'll never play this on the radio