Miss America Lyrics - J.Cole

Miss America Lyrics - J.Cole

This is a public service announcement!

Brought to you by the good people at Dreamville Records

And so my fellow americans

Ask not what your country can do for you

Ask what you can do for your country

Excuse me....

Load the clip in the chopper, flip the script and get oscars

All my n-ggas is mobsters, all my b-tches is doctors

Cole World, this just the tip of the iceberg

So talk sh-t and taste the tip of the Mossberg

Don't trip n-gga, they just words

Though my words tend to sound like Proverbs

N-ggas don't see the preachers 'til we dead in the hearse

Granny broke cause she always givin' bread to the Church

Now pastor Mason Betha in a Lambo

And little n-ggas holdin' desert eagles like they Rambo

Bumpin' my sh-t, always wondered why they f-ck with my sh-t

I hope it's 'bout the knowledge, not about who's suckin' my d-ck

But oh well, I'm gon' sell like I had no bail

For my chain and my piece I should've won Nobel

Ill, boy you cold n-gga, yeah I know n-gga

Only young n-gga do it better than the old n-ggas

Took chances, slow dance with the devil b-tch

Overcomin' the circumstances we hella rich

Since you all in my business, this what I tell 'em, b-tch

If you ain't f-ck with me, don't f-ck with me, this life on the edge

Green dollars splurged all on embellishments

My fellowship paid, don't need to cop my fellas sh-it

Scoopin' hoes in the party, some Cinderella sh-t

Smash for the hell of it, livin' life on the edge

Miss America, petty thoughts

Miss America, petty thoughts

Miss America, petty thoughts

Just to floss pay any and every cost

Heavy heart as I sit in this Range countin' thousands out

Am I about dollars or about change?

Am I about knowledge or about brains?

Freedom or big chains, they don't feel my pain

Blood on my sneakers, no remorse for the grievers

He played the corner like Revis he should've had better defense

That's how I'm feelin', blood spillin' I love killin'

N-ggas'll swear that they it, this is as rare as it gets

Rap game changed, this is embarrassing sh-t

Bunch of b-tches posin' on some old Miss America sh-t

I was a wilder n-gga back on my therapist sh-t, moving careless as sh-t

In a city where n-ggas really don't care who they hit

Who the f-ck was I?

Just a young little n-gga tryin' to see the other side

Of the railroad tracks, where them scarecrows at

No brains on a n-gga but they'll air your back

F-ck the man, Uncle Sam I won't sell your crack

I won't fight your wars, I won't wear your hat

I'mma pass your classes, I'mma learn your craft

I'mma f-ck your daughters, I'mma burn your flag

Took chances, slow dance with the devil b-tch

Overcomin' the circumstances we hella rich

Since you all in my business, this what I tell 'em, b-tch

If you ain't f-ck with me, don't f-ck with me, this life on the edge

Green dollars splurged all on embellishments

My fellowship paid, don't need to cop my fellas sh-t

Scoopin' hoes in the party, some Cinderella sh-t

Smash for the hell of it, livin' life on the edge

Miss America, petty thoughts

Miss America, petty thoughts

Miss America, petty thoughts

Just to floss pay any and every cost

Heavy heart as I sit in this Range countin' thousands out

Am I about dollars or about change?

Am I about knowledge or about brains?

Freedom or big chains, they don't feel my pain

They don't feel my pain

They'll never feel my pain

And they'll never play this sh-t on the radio