Luyện nghe bài hát Miss America Reprise

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

me

1]
Load the clip in the chopper, flip the script and get
All my niggas is mobsters, all my bitches is
Cole World, this 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
Niggas see the preachers 'til we dead in the hearse
broke 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, wondered why they fuck with my shit
I hope it's 'bout the knowledge, not about who's suckin' my
But oh well, I'm gon' sell like I had no
For my chain and my piece I won Nobel
Ill, boy you cold nigga, I know nigga
Only young nigga do it better the old niggas

Took chances, dance with the devil 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
dollars splurged all on embellishments
My paid, don't need to cop my fellas shit
Scoopin' hoes in the party, some shit
Smash for the hell of it, livin' on the edge

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

2]
Blood on my sneakers, no remorse for the
He played the corner Revis he should've had better defense
how I'm feelin', blood spillin' I love killin'
Niggas'll that they it, this is as rare as it gets
Rap changed, this is embarrassing shit
Bunch of bitches posin' on some old America shit
I was a wilder nigga back on my therapist shit, moving as shit
In a city where really don't care who they hit
Who the was I?
Just a young little nigga tryin' to see the other
Of the railroad tracks, where them at
No brains on a nigga but air your back
the man, Uncle Sam I won't sell your crack
I won't your wars, I won't wear your hat
I'mma your classes, I'mma learn your craft
I'mma fuck daughters, I'mma burn your flag

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