JUICY J


Stop It Lyrics

[Intro:]
Ima tell you broke n-ggas something
Listen

[Verse 1:]
Make money, no vacation
Pay cash don't make payments
Getting high like I'm eighteen
But I've been rich since the late eighties
Backstage, naked ladies
Poppin pills and swallowing babies
Bad bitches ain't come to play
She gon' give me head before I go on stage
New car, a couple, a hundred
Ain't nothin' I call it play money
Bugatti, Ferrari, the Benz, the Bentley
Juicy stay stuntin
Street n-ggas, we packin them 2's
Play with it, make action news
Put some money on your head, you worth a stack or two
Real n-gga I'm 100, I stay leanin, I chase money
N-ggas out here savin hoes, n-ggas need to be savin money
Made mine, can't take it from me
Hit the club, I take your woman
Take her home, get some head, wake up breakfast in bed
Yeah n-gga that's grits and eggs
Rich bitch don't forget the bread
Up and down that interstate
I move weight, that's Jenny Craig
Ima f-ck me a model, ima f-ck me a model
You only get to live one time, so ima f-ck me a model

[Hook:]
I make money all day then I ball with the profits
N-ggas hate on me, I tell em hatin' n-ggas stop it
Go f-ck with a bitch, get that becky then I'm gone
Catch me on that loud pack, blowin on this strong (x2)
[Interlude:]
Straight out of north Memphis n-gga
20 years in
Still rich and ain’t gon stop getting rich
Told you n-ggas I ain’t never gonna stop getting money
Let’s get it

[Verse 2:]
Bitch you ain’t no killa
And real n-ggas don’t talk
Start shit in this club
It’s going down in the parking lot
N-ggas get killed and then we ain’t shedding no tears
N-ggas can’t keep they mouth closed, judge give you them years
Yo homie f-ckin yo bitch
And she ain't acceptin' your calls
Them n-ggas ain't holding you down
And you call them n-ggas yo dogs
They really out here hatin so stay strapped up like a tank
They got guns they got in movies
Except they not shootin' blanks
Pass straight them, broad daylight
They don’t care who lookin
Young n-ggas got something to prove, n-ggas think he pushin
Playin' round in my hood and I’ll smoke you like a swisha
We don’t play bout money and we don’t play with them pistols

[Hook]
I make money all day then I ball with the profits
N-ggas hate on me, I tell em hatin' n-ggas stop it
Go f-ck with a bitch, get that becky then I'm gone
Catch me on that loud pack, blowin on this strong (x2)

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these lyrics are submitted by BURKUL6
Songwriter(s): Michael Williams, Pierre Ramon Slaughter, Jordan Houston
Record Label(s): 2012, 2013 Kemosabe Records Columbia Records, a Division of Sony Music Entertainment
Official lyrics by

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