RIP FATT Jace! (​​​​iayze)

[Intro]
(I should probably go, it's getting late)
Press on that gas, get on the E-way (How, how?)
Press on that gas, get on the E-way (How, how?)
Press on that gas, get on the E-way (How, how?)
Press on that gas, get on the E-way (How, how?)
Press on that gas, get on 'em (Get on 'em)

[Chorus]
It's fast, so I'ma hop in it
Press on that gas, get on the E-way
Digi' my dash, I been on hot shit
Press on that gas, get on the E-way (Woah)
Digital dash, digital dash
Press on that gas, get on the E-way (Woah)
Digital dash, digital (Press on that gas)
Flexed up (Get on the E-way), tryna flex to the minimal
Shoot from the head up, bullet hit him then it's critical (Press on that gas, get on the E-way)
Gеt on his head, he's done, huh, what?
Mе and that VVS bond
Money on me, all I know is flexin'
I don't wear Rick or Dior

[Verse 2]
While I ever do is flex, we don't gotta make music 'bout that
I see where my sons at (At)
And I'm like, "Yeah, I don't know 'bout that" (Gas, gettin' on the E-way)
'Cause I'm on a Perc, I can literally see demons, my money came in, in a briefcase
I get to fuckin' that HP up when a young nigga get on the E-way (E-way)
I know she trying to tell me a couple of things all in my brain (Brain)
She get to tellin' me stories, I'm looking for names, she don't say (Don't say)
I get to—, I get to rollin' up dope when I'm lookin' like I'm on the way (On the way)
Woah, she wanna be gang, and I'm like, "No way" (No way)
Woah