Sellout
Sellout
KRSNA
(HOOK)
They say that i'm a sellout
They say i sold my soul
They say I went commercial
Now they hate me even more
They say that i'm a sellout
I guess i'm just a sellout
(1)
They telling me, I sold my soul
Like I'm meant to be on my own
You got a record deal, you don't know how we feel
Now you don't even sound that real any more
So I maybe should stay very poor?
Maybe I should not get paid anymore?
Sit at home full of rich hate, I could make hits
But I'll make a mix tape
Full of shit, that don't even get played anymore
They don't like me, if I write these raps
If i'm on TV, then I might be whack
I could give a fuck, if you dudes, on youtube
Dislike my track
Thats a freighting fact!
Now face it
For the fact, these fans giving me flak
For getting my ass famous
Rather see me struggle than make it
What about most of the crap
That you call rap
When you play it back, on your playlist
I don't wanna be, part of no A list
But I wanna be a part, of the list
That puts me on par with the greatest
Its like my success, got em losing their minds
They hate the mainstream
Like its a crime
But never cared
When I was on the grind
(2)
So tired of dealing, with these lame questions
Like 'don't you still want to make a change bredrin?'
If you knew me, which you probably dont
Then you would've known, that I came in game flexin
I did my part, n I grinded out
So I think i deserve time without
Your speculation, been counted out
But I fought my doubts
N then you talkin bout
I went commercial? man fuck that!
I went in circles, coz I love rap
N I never really got no love back
So get the hell off my nut sacks
See I'm solo till the day that I die
I pray that I fly, if i don't, succeed, then at least
I can say that I tried
Say that I might
Find my feet, when i'm rolling in the deep
Like adele, but i'm real when i ride
N i kill with the style
With the will, bonafide
From day 1, I came home
To a house full of drama
Telling me that I sold out my persona
For a bank account full, of commas
Think what you wanna
(BREAK)
They say they only like that underground shit
And this music isn't what they get down with
They don't like any of the shit I do
And if it's playing on the radio, it ain't cool
KRSNA
(HOOK)
They say that i'm a sellout
They say i sold my soul
They say I went commercial
Now they hate me even more
They say that i'm a sellout
I guess i'm just a sellout
(1)
They telling me, I sold my soul
Like I'm meant to be on my own
You got a record deal, you don't know how we feel
Now you don't even sound that real any more
So I maybe should stay very poor?
Maybe I should not get paid anymore?
Sit at home full of rich hate, I could make hits
But I'll make a mix tape
Full of shit, that don't even get played anymore
They don't like me, if I write these raps
If i'm on TV, then I might be whack
I could give a fuck, if you dudes, on youtube
Dislike my track
Thats a freighting fact!
Now face it
For the fact, these fans giving me flak
For getting my ass famous
Rather see me struggle than make it
What about most of the crap
That you call rap
When you play it back, on your playlist
I don't wanna be, part of no A list
But I wanna be a part, of the list
That puts me on par with the greatest
Its like my success, got em losing their minds
They hate the mainstream
Like its a crime
But never cared
When I was on the grind
(2)
So tired of dealing, with these lame questions
Like 'don't you still want to make a change bredrin?'
If you knew me, which you probably dont
Then you would've known, that I came in game flexin
I did my part, n I grinded out
So I think i deserve time without
Your speculation, been counted out
But I fought my doubts
N then you talkin bout
I went commercial? man fuck that!
I went in circles, coz I love rap
N I never really got no love back
So get the hell off my nut sacks
See I'm solo till the day that I die
I pray that I fly, if i don't, succeed, then at least
I can say that I tried
Say that I might
Find my feet, when i'm rolling in the deep
Like adele, but i'm real when i ride
N i kill with the style
With the will, bonafide
From day 1, I came home
To a house full of drama
Telling me that I sold out my persona
For a bank account full, of commas
Think what you wanna
(BREAK)
They say they only like that underground shit
And this music isn't what they get down with
They don't like any of the shit I do
And if it's playing on the radio, it ain't cool
Credits
Writer(s): Krishna Kaul
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.