Luyện nghe bài hát Miss America

This is a service announcement
to you by the good people 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 is doctors
Cole World, this the tip of the iceberg
So shit and taste the tip of the Mossberg
Don't nigga, they just words
Though my words to sound like Proverbs
don't see the preachers 'til we dead in the hearse
Granny broke cause she givin' bread to the Church
Now pastor Mason Betha in a
And little holdin' desert eagles like they Rambo
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' like I had no bail
For my chain and my piece I won Nobel
Ill, boy you cold nigga, yeah I know
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 what I tell a
If you ain't fuckin' me, don't fuck with me, this on the edge
Green dollars splurged all on
My fellowship paid, need to cop my fellas shit
Scoopin' hoes in the party, some Cinderella
Smash for the hell of it, livin' life on the

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

on my sneakers, no remorse for the grievers
He played the like Revis he should've had better defense
That's how I'm feelin', blood spillin' I killin'
Niggas'll swear that they it, this is as as it gets
Rap game changed, this is shit
Bunch of bitches posin' on old Miss America shit
I was a wilder nigga back on my shit
Moving careless as
In a city where niggas 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 on a nigga but they'll air your back
the man, Uncle Sam I won't sell your crack
I fight your wars, I won't wear your hat
I'mma pass your classes, learn your craft
I'mma fuck your daughters, burn your flag

Took chances, slow dance with the bitch
Overcomin' the circumstances we hella
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 splurged all on embellishments
My paid, don't need to cop my fellas shit
Scoopin' in the party, some Cinderella shit
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 every
Heavy heart as I sit in this countin' thousands out
Am I about or about change?
Am I knowledge or about brains?
Freedom or big chains, don't feel my pain

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