Stay Lit lyrics

[Intro]
(I-I-I)
Ayy (Ayy), go (Go), rrr, ayy (Rrr-rrr-rrr, ayy)
This BNYX sh*t (Real murdaworth sh*t)
Real murdaworth sh*t (Talkin' 'bout, ayy, I'm talkin' 'bout, ayy)
I'ma say this sh*t every song (We gon' say that sh*t 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 sh*t (I'm working on dying, pat my head and sh*t)
And n*ggas still not passed me on all type of sh*t (BNYX, ayy)

[Chorus]
Get down, n*gga, 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 b*tch, shoot it up, shoot it up
These n*ggas know I do not f*ck with these n*ggas
I'm counting figures, getting bigger and sh*t
That's a headshot, brodie, on side him, he assist
That's a Glock with a switch and that b*tch got a stick
I don't call it, no di*k, you can miss that sh*t
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, b*tch, you better stay lit
She shaking ass, got the best, stay lit
Up on his chain, should of kept they sh*t
More Jace!, less Tony, n*gga, bang-bang, b*tch
[Verse]
I don't f*ck with n*ggas, I'm EBK
I got the KKK toting KK's, n*gga
Take that boy out like a play date, n*gga
I gave him six out the .9, no Treyway, n*gga
Big ass blunt with big ass Balenciaga runners on
I'ma keep pouring out the bottle
She got a real ass, she a model
n*gga 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 sh*t, pop my collar up (Collar up)
And I still think sometimes I'm a problem (Ayy, b*tch)

[Chorus]
Get down, n*gga, 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 b*tch, shoot it up, shoot it up
These n*ggas know I do not f*ck with these n*ggas
I'm counting figures, getting bigger and sh*t
That's a headshot, brodie, on side him, he assist
That's a Glock with a switch and that b*tch got a stick
I don't call it, no di*k, you can miss that sh*t
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, b*tch, you better stay lit
She shaking ass, got the best, stay lit
Up on his chain, should of kept they sh*t
More Jace!, less Tony, n*gga, bang-bang, b*tch