Luyện nghe bài hát Miss America

This is a public service
Brought to you by the good over at Dreamville Records
"And so my Americans
Ask not your country can do for you
Ask you can do for your 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 nigga, they just words
Though my words tend to sound Proverbs
Niggas don't see the 'til we dead in the hearse
Granny broke cause she always bread to the Church
Now pastor Betha in a Lambo
And little niggas holdin' eagles like they Rambo
Bumpin' my shit, always wondered why they fuck my shit
I hope it's 'bout the knowledge, not about who's suckin' my
But oh well, I'm sell like I had no bail
For my chain and my piece I should've won
Ill, boy you cold nigga, yeah I nigga
Only young do it better than the old niggas

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

America, petty thoughts
Miss America, thoughts
Miss America, petty
Just to pay any and every cost
Heavy as I sit in this Range countin' thousands out
Am I about dollars or change?
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 like Revis he should've had better defense
That's how I'm feelin', blood I love killin'
Niggas'll that they it, this is as rare as it gets
Rap game changed, this is embarrassing
Bunch of bitches on some old Miss America shit
I was a wilder nigga on my therapist shit
careless as shit
In a city niggas really don't care who they hit
Who the was I?
Just a little nigga tryin' to see the other side
Of the railroad tracks, where scarecrows at
No brains on a but they'll air your back
the man, Uncle Sam I won't sell your crack
I won't fight your wars, I won't your hat
I'mma pass your classes, learn your craft
I'mma fuck your daughters, burn your flag

Took chances, slow dance the devil bitch
Overcomin' the circumstances we rich
Since you all in my business, what I tell a bitch
If you fuckin' 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' in the party, some Cinderella shit
Smash for the of it, livin' life on the edge

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

They feel my pain
never feel my pain
And they'll play this shit on the radio