Luyện nghe bài hát Miss America

This is a service announcement
Brought to you by the good people at Dreamville Records
"And so my Americans
Ask not what country 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 is doctors
Cole World, just the tip of the iceberg
So talk shit and taste the tip of the
Don't trip nigga, just words
Though my words tend to sound Proverbs
Niggas don't see the preachers 'til we dead in the
Granny cause she always givin' bread to the Church
Now pastor Mason in a Lambo
And little niggas holdin' desert eagles like they
Bumpin' my shit, always wondered why fuck with my shit
I hope it's the knowledge, not about who's suckin' my dick
But oh well, I'm gon' sell like I had no
For my and my piece I should've won Nobel
Ill, boy you cold nigga, I know nigga
Only young nigga do it better the old niggas

Took chances, slow with the devil bitch
the circumstances 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
Green dollars all on embellishments
My fellowship paid, don't need to cop my shit
Scoopin' hoes in the party, some Cinderella
Smash for the hell of it, livin' life on the

Miss America, petty
Miss America, thoughts
Miss America, petty
Just to floss pay any and every
Heavy heart as I sit in this Range countin' out
Am I about or about change?
Am I about knowledge or about
Freedom or big chains, they feel my pain

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

Took chances, slow with the devil bitch
the circumstances 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 splurged all on
My fellowship paid, don't need to cop my fellas
Scoopin' hoes in the party, Cinderella shit
for the hell of it, livin' life on the edge

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

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