J. Cole - Miss America lyrics

This is a public service announcement
Brought to you by the good
People over 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 niggas is mobsters
All my bitches is doctors
Cole World, this just the tip of the iceberg
So talk shit and taste the
Tip of the Mossberg
Don't trip nigga, they just words
Though my words tend to sound like Proverbs
Niggas 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 niggas holdin' desert
Eagles like they Rambo bumpin' my shit
Always wondered why they fuck with my shit
I hope it's 'bout the knowledge
Not about who's suckin' my dick
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 nigga, yeah I know nigga
Only young nigga do it better
Than the old niggas

Took chances, slow dance with the devil bitch
Overcomin' the circumstances, we hella rich
Since you all in my business
This what I tell a bitch
If you ain't fuckin' me, don't fuck with me
This life on the edge
Green dollars splurged all on embellishments
My fellowship paid
Don't need to cop my fellas shit
Scoopin' hoes in the party
Some Cinderella shit
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'
Niggas'll swear that they it
This is as rare as it gets
Rap game changed, this is embarrassing shit
Bunch of bitches posin' on some
Old Miss America shit
I was a wilder nigga back
On my therapist shit
Moving careless as shit
In a city where niggas really
Don't care who they hit who the fuck was I?
Just a young little nigga tryin'
To see the other side
Of the railroad tracks
Where them scarecrows at
No brains on a nigga but
They'll air your back fuck the man
Uncle Sam I won't sell your crack
I won't fight your wars
I won't wear your hat
I'ma pass your classes, I'ma learn your craft
I'ma fuck your daughters, I'ma burn your flag

Took chances, slow dance with the devil bitch
Overcomin' the circumstances, we hella rich
Since you all in my business
This what I tell a bitch
If you ain't fuckin' me, don't fuck with me
This life on the edge
Green dollars splurged all on embellishments
My fellowship paid
Don't need to cop my fellas shit
Scoopin' hoes in the party
Some Cinderella shit
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 shit on the radio