Lucille's Grandson cover

Sell Out Paroles

Kevo Muney

Album Lucille's Grandson

Paroles de Sell Out

(Memphis Track, Memphis Track Boy)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, huh, yeah, yeah, yeah
Kevo Muney
Yeah, yeah, yeah (Turn up)
Turn up, turn up, turn up, turn up
Huh, huh, huh

How you got money, but can't even bail out?
You want a show, you book me, it's a sellout

I send a message, ain't givin' no mail-out
I got the city headlock like a dreadlock
And where was you when they was callin' me "Junkie"?
Even in wintertime, ice sunny
I call up Sloppy, he pull up, he dump it
Did what you wanna do, already done it
I don't see nothin' on your waist, wherе your gun at?
I got some niggas gon' shoot where I point at
I caught thе bomb and I ran where they punt at
I love my cousin, he crazy, his drunk ass
I want the bitch and never been in Outkast
She say, "Kevo, you be fresh with your fat ass"
Walkin' 'round the hood, they like, "Kevione, lil' bad ass"
And I come to Memphis to rock out a show
When I'm done with that show, I'm back outta the city Kevo Muney, hottest youngin in the city
I just been fuckin' these bitches
You know I'ma peep her, don't call me D
Everybody told me, "Get outta Memphis"
Walk down the street, [?]
I went to New York City for a meet
I walk in the buildin', everybody greet me
I walk in the bitch and everybody see me
Don't come in my life, don't come in my life if you gonna leave me, you gonna leave me
Every night, every night, I pray to get easy, pray to get easy
And I'm at the top, these niggas can't see me, they so beneath me, they so beneath me
And I can't even drive, want a Lamborghini, Lamborghini, Lamborghini

But how you got money, but can't even bail out?
You want a show, you book me, it's a sell-out

Ayy, if you wan' book, I need about fifty
A hundred or better, depend on the city
Bringin' the gang and they comin' in with me
A nigga look wrong and I'm poppin' his fitted
You know when I pop out, I'm bringin' the city
And my bitch comin' with me, I'm grippin' her titties
Automatic, this is not a semi and my Glock got a Jimmy, ain't doin' no jammin'
Where's the bread? You know I'm a bandit
Leave my kids on her head, then I'ma abandon
Two sticks in the Phantom, we ride in Atlanta
We seein' our mans, we ready to stamp 'em
If he a reason, we leave him deceased
Line a nigga up like he had a crease
Shoot up the crib, make him cancel the lease
We might do him so bad, he might call the police, brr