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    J. Cole
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    Miss America

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    Song Info

    Miss America
    Released

    By J. Cole

      About "Miss America"

      Lyrics for J. Cole - "Miss America"

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

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

      SONGWRITERS:
      COLE, JERMAINE L. / DEKKER, BROOKLN
      Powered and licensed by LyricFind
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