Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Sell Out, artist - Kevo MuneyDate of issue: 08.04.2021
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Sell Out |
| 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 sell out |
| I send a message, ain’t giving no mail out |
| I got the city headlock like a dreadlock |
| And where was you when they were callin' me junkie? |
| Even in winter time, 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, 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» |
| Walkin' 'round the hood, they like, «Kevey, young 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 stoppin', man, I’m never quittin' |
| 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 fuckin' these bitches |
| You know I’ma peep her, don’t call me D |
| Everybody told me, «Get outta Memphis» |
| Walkin' 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 hunnid or better, depending 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 |