Lecrae - Sell Out Lyrics
[Intro]Alright, alright, welcome to the label, manNow check this out, man, listen. I know you’re known for just being honest and transparent and all that good stuffBut listen, we ain’t got no time for all that, manThat don’t make no moneyWe need you to tell lies, lies, and more lies, manIt’s all about selling outDon’t give the people what they need, give ‘em what they want, babyLie to these folks, man![Verse: Lecrae]I’m on now, I can’t even stand meLook at me, Mama, I’m known now, I got me a GrammyCall Kami, Khiana, and Tammy, and tell ‘em that I made itBroke my heart in the seventh grade, so this is how I repay ‘emThey say that money can’t make you, they probably ain’t making moneyIt made me richer than you, and it made me look at you funnyYou don’t really want it, you don’t want no problems, problems? be like, “Whatever you need, dawg, call me.”So I be like doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo, solve itMoney on his head, I put that boy under the walletI can’t even rap like that, but insecurity would have me sounding whack like thatI already made it when I graduated from high schoolAin’t validated ‘cause I’m at the top of the iTunesBut I too was once a fool for nice shoesSpiteful of dudes who do what I like toBut if I’m honest on the other side of fame, it’s the same stains in the latrineYou still can’t buy love, and ain’t no way to buy off painThat’s why these rich folks blow out their brainsMore insecure they are the more they brag, advertising their painI don’t want no parts of learning that thingOh wait, hold up, this where I’m supposed to do somethingLyrical miracle metaphor simile onomatopoeia on a periodYou’s a peon, period, I dominate rapI failed algebra, and I ain’t paid my property taxOh well, I got bars, family behind barsThrow money at insecure women and fine carsPeople stealing right under my nose and my taxes whackBut no need to worry, my accountant handles that, rightI mean what you expect? I do anything to gain your respect, sell out[Outro]What you doing, man?You know you started off good then you started telling the truthWe ain’t got no time for thatThis is Lie-A-Lot recordsWe need you to tell more liesHello?Hello?Hey where you going, man?Come back here, manChurch Clothes 2!I ain’t got to hear that you love it, cause I know that you love it!
