Sell Out

(album: Lucille's Grandson - 2021)

(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 giving no mail-out
I got the city headlock like a dreadlock
And where was you when they was calling 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 nothing on your waist, where your gun at?
I got some niggas gon' shoot where I point at
I caught the 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"
Walking '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
I'm never stopping, man, I'm never quitting
Fuck a detective, fuck a lieutenant
I do not fuck with the police or snitches
I'm just one man, I can't save all these bitches
Kevo Muney, hottest youngin in the city
I just been fucking 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 building, 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
Bringing the gang and they coming in with me
A nigga look wrong and I'm popping his fitted
You know when I pop out, I'm bringing the city
And my bitch coming with me, I'm gripping her titties
Automatic, this is not a semi and my Glock got a Jimmy, ain't doing no jamming
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 seeing 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