J. Cole - Miss America Lyrics
[Intro]This is a public service announcementBrought to you by the good people at Dreamville Records"And so my fellow AmericansAsk not what your country can do for youAsk what you can do for your country"Excuse me[Verse 1]Load the clip in the chopper, flip the script and get OscarsAll my niggas is mobsters, all my *****es is doctorsCole World, this just the tip of the icebergSo talk shit and taste the tip of the MossbergDon't trip nigga, they just wordsThough my words tend to sound like ProverbsNiggas don't see the preachers 'til we dead in the hearseGranny broke cause she always givin' bread to the ChurchNow pastor Mason Betha in a LamboAnd little niggas holdin' desert eagles like they RamboBumpin' my shit, always wondered why they ***** with my shitI hope it's 'bout the knowledge, not about who's suckin' my dickBut oh well, I'm gon' sell like I had no bailFor my chain and my piece I should've won NobelIll, boy you cold nigga, yeah I know niggaOnly young nigga do it better than the old niggas[Hook]Took chances, slow dance with the devil *****Overcomin' the circumstances we hella richSince you all in my business, this what I tell a *****If you ain't *****in' me, don't ***** with me, this life on the edgeGreen dollars splurged all on embellishmentsMy fellowship paid, don't need to cop my fellas shitScoopin' hoes in the party, some Cinderella shitSmash for the hell of it, livin' life on the edgeMiss America, petty thoughtsMiss America, petty thoughtsMiss America, petty thoughtsJust to floss pay any and every costHeavy heart as I sit in this Range countin' thousands outAm I about dollars or about change?Am I about knowledge or about brains?Freedom or big chains, they don't feel my pain[Verse 2]Blood on my sneakers, no remorse for the grieversHe played the corner like Revis he should've had better defenseThat's how I'm feelin', blood spillin' I love killin'Niggas'll swear that they it, this is as rare as it getsRap game changed, this is embarrassing shitBunch of *****es posin' on some old Miss America shitI was a wilder nigga back on my therapist shit, moving careless as shitIn a city where niggas really don't care who they hitWho the ***** was I?Just a young little nigga tryin' to see the other sideOf the railroad tracks, where them scarecrows atNo brains on a nigga but they'll air your back***** the man, Uncle Sam I won't sell your crackI won't fight your wars, I won't wear your hatI'mma pass your classes, I'mma learn your craftI'mma ***** your daughters, I'mma burn your flag[Hook][Outro]They don't feel my painThey'll never feel my painAnd they'll never play this shit on the radio
