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Sell Out
by
NLE Choppa
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(Memphis Track Boy, Memphis Track Boy) Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, huh, yeah, yeah, yeah (Fly as a jet) Kevo Muney Yeah, yeah, yeah (Turn up) Turn up, turn up, turn up, turn up Huh, huh, huh (Track Nation) 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, whеre your gun at? I got some n***as gon' shoot wherе I point at I caught the bomb and I ran where they punt that I love my cousin, he crazy, his drunk a** I want the b*t*hes, never been an outcast She say, "Kevo, you be fresh with your fat a**" Walkin' 'round the hood, they like, "Kevione, lil' bad a**" 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' F**k a detective, f**k a lieutenant I do not f**k with the police or snitches I'm just one man, I can't save all these b*t*hes Kevo Muney, hottest youngin in the city I just been f**kin' these b*t*hes You know I'ma peep, but don't call me D Everybody told me get out of Memphis Walk down the street, I was writing graffiti I went to New York City for a meet I walk in the buildin', everybody greet me I walk in the b*t*h 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 n***as 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 me, I need about fifty A hundred or better, depend on the city Bringin' the gang and they comin' in with me A n***a look wrong and I'm poppin' his fitted You know when I pop out, I'm bringin' the city And my b*t*h comin' with me, I'm grippin' her t**ties 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 n***a 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
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