"Stay Lit" lyrics
Jace! Lyrics
(I-I-I)
Ayy (Ayy), go (Go), rrr, ayy (Rrr-rrr-rrr, ayy)
This BNYX shit (Real murdaworth shit)
Real murdaworth shit (Talkin' 'bout, ayy, I'm talkin' 'bout, ayy)
I'ma say this shit every song (We gon' say that shit all the time)
I ain't ever gon' stop, I don't care if it get old (Go, I been supposed to fall off)
I been supposed fall off (Ayy, let me catch the beat, ayy, run it back, I-I-I)
All type of shit (I'm working on dying, pat my head and shit)
And niggas still not passed me on all type of shit (BNYX, ayy)
Get down, nigga, it's a drill
Too many Glocks, send shots, get popped like a pill
The money leave me shocked like an eel
Pull up on the side of that bitch, shoot it up, shoot it up
These niggas know I do not fuck with these niggas
I'm counting figures, getting bigger and shit
That's a headshot, brodie, on side him, he assist
That's a Glock with a switch and that bitch got a stick
I don't call it, no dick, you can miss that shit
We gon' spin through quick, get hit, get zipped
My drip don't zip, I'ma pour-up and sip
Walking with a thirty-round mag' and an SK clip
Don't fall off, bitch, you better stay lit
She shaking ass, got the best, stay lit
Up on his chain, should of kept they shit
More Jace!, less Tony, nigga, bang-bang, bitch
I don't fuck with niggas, I'm EBK
I got the KKK toting KK's, nigga
Take that boy out like a play date, nigga
I gave him six out the .9, no Treyway, nigga
Big ass blunt with big ass Balenciaga runners on
I'ma keep pouring out the bottle
She got a real ass, she a model
Nigga tried to run, so we caught up with him, tripped him and caught him
Spot him, we got him, we spot him, we dropped him
We be with the opposites, spin through, pop him
Top Kid notorious, call me, "Big Papa"
I still got my oppa-stompa for the drama
I'm still a baller (Baller), and that dollar on her make her holler (Holler)
And I feel like the shit, pop my collar up (Collar up)
And I still think sometimes I'm a problem (Ayy, bitch)
Get down, nigga, it's a drill
Too many Glocks, send shots, get popped like a pill
The money leave me shocked like an eel
Pull up on the side of that bitch, shoot it up, shoot it up
These niggas know I do not fuck with these niggas
I'm counting figures, getting bigger and shit
That's a headshot, brodie, on side him, he assist
That's a Glock with a switch and that bitch got a stick
I don't call it, no dick, you can miss that shit
We gon' spin through quick, get hit, get zipped
My drip don't zip, I'ma pour-up and sip
Walking with a thirty-round mag' and an SK clip
Don't fall off, bitch, you better stay lit
She shaking ass, got the best, stay lit
Up on his chain, should of kept they shit
More Jace!, less Tony, nigga, bang-bang, bitch
Ayy (Ayy), go (Go), rrr, ayy (Rrr-rrr-rrr, ayy)
This BNYX shit (Real murdaworth shit)
Real murdaworth shit (Talkin' 'bout, ayy, I'm talkin' 'bout, ayy)
I'ma say this shit every song (We gon' say that shit all the time)
I ain't ever gon' stop, I don't care if it get old (Go, I been supposed to fall off)
I been supposed fall off (Ayy, let me catch the beat, ayy, run it back, I-I-I)
All type of shit (I'm working on dying, pat my head and shit)
And niggas still not passed me on all type of shit (BNYX, ayy)
Get down, nigga, it's a drill
Too many Glocks, send shots, get popped like a pill
The money leave me shocked like an eel
Pull up on the side of that bitch, shoot it up, shoot it up
These niggas know I do not fuck with these niggas
I'm counting figures, getting bigger and shit
That's a headshot, brodie, on side him, he assist
That's a Glock with a switch and that bitch got a stick
I don't call it, no dick, you can miss that shit
We gon' spin through quick, get hit, get zipped
My drip don't zip, I'ma pour-up and sip
Walking with a thirty-round mag' and an SK clip
Don't fall off, bitch, you better stay lit
She shaking ass, got the best, stay lit
Up on his chain, should of kept they shit
More Jace!, less Tony, nigga, bang-bang, bitch
I don't fuck with niggas, I'm EBK
I got the KKK toting KK's, nigga
Take that boy out like a play date, nigga
I gave him six out the .9, no Treyway, nigga
Big ass blunt with big ass Balenciaga runners on
I'ma keep pouring out the bottle
She got a real ass, she a model
Nigga tried to run, so we caught up with him, tripped him and caught him
Spot him, we got him, we spot him, we dropped him
We be with the opposites, spin through, pop him
Top Kid notorious, call me, "Big Papa"
I still got my oppa-stompa for the drama
I'm still a baller (Baller), and that dollar on her make her holler (Holler)
And I feel like the shit, pop my collar up (Collar up)
And I still think sometimes I'm a problem (Ayy, bitch)
Get down, nigga, it's a drill
Too many Glocks, send shots, get popped like a pill
The money leave me shocked like an eel
Pull up on the side of that bitch, shoot it up, shoot it up
These niggas know I do not fuck with these niggas
I'm counting figures, getting bigger and shit
That's a headshot, brodie, on side him, he assist
That's a Glock with a switch and that bitch got a stick
I don't call it, no dick, you can miss that shit
We gon' spin through quick, get hit, get zipped
My drip don't zip, I'ma pour-up and sip
Walking with a thirty-round mag' and an SK clip
Don't fall off, bitch, you better stay lit
She shaking ass, got the best, stay lit
Up on his chain, should of kept they shit
More Jace!, less Tony, nigga, bang-bang, bitch
