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(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 Letras de cancionesI'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" 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 From Letras Mania