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E.S.G.




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Альбом E.S.G.



1999
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. . .


(Chorus: E.S.G.)
Buy the car, buy the house
fuck the wife, fuck the spouse
throw the diamonds in our mouth
realist rhymin in the south
back to back, track to track
none of ya'll niggas cant fuck wit that
E.S.G and Wreckshop you know we makin paper stack

(Verse One: E.S.G.)
Buy the mansion, buy the Lexus
buy the nine to squash the plexin
showin them boys how Houston, Texas
smoke weed, drivin wreckless
the barbershop, haters knock
a nigga like me gonna bleed the block
comin down trunks pop tops drop
comin down we free to stock
cant stop the shine bump & grind again
one slow up in ya slow independent top ten
I made mistakes in '98, 99 will be better
88 degrees feel like some pop roof weather
hell what them haters say E.S.G on the scene
platinum sole shuttin them doors but the game aint complete
until the fourth one release you niggas check yo shit
another hit is all they get southwest will slang them hits
I'm da shit bitch!I know you smell the odor
stretched cruise control I slam the doors on a Rover
sippin syrup and soda maintain yo composer
E.S.G done signed with Wreckshop you know the games over

(Chorus)

(Verse Two: Lil'Flip)
In my mouth diamonds glarin
wearin nothin but Donna Karen
ridin red turnin heads, always keep a yellow starin
buy a house I'll buy the block
buy the boat and I'm a buy the dock
sittin sideways still I hop
watch the trunk still go pop
H-Town playas cant take the lost
playin football like Marshall Faulk
sippin codine to cure my cough
full time playa just like Big H.A.W.K
Make Em say Ugh like Master P
do the body rock like P-A-T
swang and bang like E.S.G
G's and Ballers like H.$.E
if I'm chillin with a girl it gotta be a star
if I hold a white cup it gotta be the barre
blue, black, or red don't touch my car
Screwed Up Click is who we are
25 lighters like D.M.D
20 inch rims on GMC's
Playstation flippin like GMG
to let the world know I'm Sucka Free
like Botany Boys I'm Mr. G
living the life of Luxury
F-L-I-P is who I be hittin a switch wit A.P
we millionaires and billionaires
flyin to shows in a rocket
the money you make in a year I got that in my pocket!

(Chorus)

(Verse Three: E.S.G.)
Better (?)ya to tux let the Klu Klux know
that I'm a blast ya
heard how ya done James Byrd down up in Jasper
ask Shawn, Chris, & Baby its time I kill
E.S.G and Platinum Sole that's ten thousand times a mill
so whats the deal all you fake snakes rattle still
better guard yo grill better keep yo sill
a nigga get killed on the battle field
we popping pills and paying bills
make a man steal for the scrill
they pop my pump back fuck a contract
all ya'll gonna get killed
scandlous skills no sex appeal
this is how it feels getting hit with a drill
caps we peel high as a hill
and you know the crowds I thrill
and from here on to Nashville you know we lookin trill
we still comin down with the one minute grill
I done want no deal I'm a stay independent
I done want no deal I make a mill a minute
then hit the mall and spend it
and you know I'm drippin wet
comin threw the door polo'ed down wit Noke D and D Reck
G's, some niggas be yellin ki's, some niggas be yellin hustlas
some niggas be yellin bustas, some niggas be yellin glocks
some niggas be yellin nines
but to tell the truth ya'll niggas aint got a dime
cause see we gonna..

(Chorus) - repeat to end

. . .


(Intro)
Ride baby, ridas, ridas, ridas
You want to ride you can ride, want to drive you can drive
But lord knows, when I roll I'ma be high

[Chorus: Billy Cook]
Do you want to ride with the southside
Eastside gone ride
Do you want to ride with the southside
Westside gone ride
Do you want to ride with the southside
Northside gone ride
Do you want to ride with the southside
Southside worldwide

[E.S.G.]
Hey ho, hey ho, southside gone hold
It's candy coats on my toes
As I, park the Rolls, and open up the doors
Shining marble floors, love seat full of hoes
52 inch Playstation with some 9-9 Tekken
Another L.P. they tell me, this boy still wrecking
Ain't no time for plexing, I can squash the chat
Meet me at the studio, leg go popping to that
From the billboard to the Murda Dog, E.S.G. gone serve em all
While they hating I'm debating on a third of my call
Now we gone ball and parlay, macking gray Navigator
Round some chicken if you with it jazz face in Jamaica
Now later playa hater, just for bumping his gums
Started off with non salt slanging two for one
But my job ain't done until I go worldwide
And have em all body rocking which side want to ride

[Chorus]

[Sean Pimp]
I bring the noise, when I pop my trunk
Customized with the glass banging southside funk
Blowing honks of the skunks till the cat's smoked out
Riding high till we die with the glock on cock
Always peeping never sleeping man these boys'll get you
Picking the wrong times, the wrong place and wrong picture
But I ain't bout tripping, fool I'm all about my chips
Stacking a grip, big old pimps on the southside flip
Bought a club where them drugs and the thugs show love
Pop trunk, me on buzz throwing back to dump
Keeping it true, jamming Screw slow it down three knots
Got a people off the hill and they out by the dock
Off the beach lay up on to some yellow toned skin
X to my N-U-G six hundred with rims
Pop a pill, stack a mill, it's our time to rise
If you boys represent then just ride with the southside

[Chorus]

[Tyte Eyez]
Come take a ride on the side where the weather stay dry
Boppers ride plenty dick behind the shit that you drive
As I creep the scene I'm peeping these so called friends and foes
Louisiana nigga with the k, but better to fuck so many hoes
And yours too, watch me roll through, with the screens falling down
They lit, with your bitch, on my passenger side
Hit the switch, trunk rise, gangsta whitewall tires
Sunshine, blind eyes, on my candy coated prize
But my pride, can't be tied to no item you purchase
Cause in the long run, when you gone son, the shit's all worthless
Valet service, got em nervous, when we hit the scene
Haters green, blowing steam cause we stepped out cream
Our team fifteen deep, methyzine and sweets
Limousines we cheap, so check the V.I.P.
Hit the club, rush the bar, pull a star then I'm jetting
Now which side, want to ride, with the shop that's wrecking
I 10 connected, that's right

[Chorus - 2x]

(*ad-libs*)

. . .


(talking)
Off the heezy baby, knowI'mtalkingbout
We gone do this thang till a nigga six feet deep
Baby, we gone ball till we die on Wreckshop
And all these soldiers, knowI'mtalkingbout
KnowI'msaying, Screwed Up Click
Laff. Tex, everybody baby you knowI'msaying
Partner Big Shots, check it out, check it out

[E.S.G.]
Now I know by the year 1999, I'm gone shine
The bumping kid gone recline
Cause I'ma grind all the way to the summer
Then I'ma backdo' with the low Pro Yokohama's
And uh, bout to ball, I'ma let the screens fall
Then stuff the turkey full of sticky green for all y'all
And by this winter, this big money spender
I mean a G gone be this sold a ki to Marvin Siller
See niggas I get in it, I'm suppose to killa
I'm a soldier that the feds can't get close to nigga
Bout it Bout it like ? that's for love to forgive you
Wreckshop roll with choppers and bitch I kill you
Just for fucking with scrilla that's suppose to be in my bank account
Fuck a 3 for 10 cause once again we blowing dank by the ounce
Cause it's money over here, I match what you spend
We balling once again saw the benz with blue lens

[Chorus]
I don't see no reason why
Me and my g's we can't ball till we die
Sipping hennessy, and blowing big smoke
Yeah, I bullshit the definition of balling with you white folks
I don't see no reason why
Me and my g's we can't ball till we die
Now you can be a gangsta, pimp, playa, mac or a thug
Want all the ballas in the club toss it up what's up

[Noke D]
To be a G in New Orleans way down to H-Town
I 10 connect, reelect respect with the sound
Platinum bound, niggas making money forever
Surround sound, rolling Navigators with leather
Whoever, want to test this, we can wreck shit
Cause the shit don't stop we wreck shop, down in Texas
I bet this is the best shit you ever heard
From the third, niggas making money with words
Your vision's blurred, we drop bombs on al-bums
Got em body rocking and shocking down at Vietnam
We weather the storm, so bring the rain, sleet or snow
Ask your hoe, she know, how we go and we know
D baby, I'm still throwed in the game
Putting kicks, snares and bass lines to make bang
We living these ghetto dreams so I'm flashing my diamond rings
My high beams to the sky, it's E.S.G. and I

[Chorus]

[E.S.G.]
Twenty five lighters on my dresser, yes sir
Twenty five birds in my compressor, bet you
Feds won't find the damn onion
Cause I ain't tell a soul that I was coming
In a state of running back and fourth, can't take no shorts
Cause niggas I fuck with, got game like E.A. sports
Yes son we in the Source, boy my grill shining
Bustas best to plex Wreckshop is still climbing
If you want it in this game, you got to get it, get it
And once you get a mill ticket niggas will kick it
Plus hoe niggas do hoe thangs
But I'm a throwed nigga doing throwed thangs
So please mama may I, grow up to be a playa
It's hard trying to escape uh, these motherfucking hatas
I guess you see the platinum rollie and the Wreckshop piece
You boys can't hold me down it's my fourth release

[Chorus - 2x]

(talking)
Uh, man hold up, what's up D-Reck
What's up Noke D baby, you know it's going down
Baby, god damn right it's going down
It ain't no secret, it's already known
Wreckshop baby, L to the throne huh
Diamonds gone be shown uh
Bank account full grown
Gone ball till we gone man what
Catch up with P-A-T
Start it all over again, uh man, feel that

. . .


(talking)
Some of y'all niggas are bitches too, that's right
But me, a player, from the third coast man
I'd rather have a bitch, that's gangsta you knowI'mtalkinbout
So right about now, for the year two triple O
E.S.G., Tre Duece and my partner Ron-O
We gone let the whole world know, what type
Of bitches we got down here in the south no doubt, no doubt

[Chorus: Ronnie Spencer - 2x]
If you ain't a gangsta bitch, I don't want you, don't want you baby
If you ain't a gangsta bitch, I don't need you, don't need you baby, uh

[E.S.G.]
Now I got a bitch, that do what I tell her
Now she holds my bricks and hit licks on my cellular
My bitch is playa made, with a head full of them braids
She rides panties aside, gray insides on the blades
Now my bitch don't smoke, but she ride with the dope
Plus she keep a 25 stuffed inside her coach
Bag in the jag showing ass, turning heads
Tattoos on her thighs with the money sign on her leg
See I trust her with my cash, I trust her with my bank
Plus she's the type of bitch that'll bust a strip for the drink
If we ain't freaking, then she setting up a reakon
So we go in for three so fly off for the weekend
Properly to a rumor, send bags so fast brah
Don't know what I do, if the feds ever arrest her
Let's po' a four, slam my door, and bang screw
Plus some of y'all niggas are bitches too

[Chorus - 2x]

[Mr. 3-2]
Now all my broads is classy and jazzy and keep me looking lovely
Far from ugly, and hit the highway for me
Do everything I say, everything my way
I'm a, big boss baller broads got to pay like they way
Heezy cheesy, I do it the g-way
Do whatever 3 say, get paid on the freeway
No de-lay, don't stop it, 1999
Man these hoes sure be popping
I watch that game unfold over a matter of time
Cause if I get 25 she gone have to hold up for a dime
Like the ground you walk on, don't talk on my bitches
Cause everything I done, she was my only witness
In this gangsta life, gangsta relationship
Blood is thicker than water baby I paid my bitch
From head to toe, don't need to say no more
Cause when I'm gone now she gone bring home the payroll, to daddy

[Chorus - 2x]

[E.S.G.]
I got a real bitch, I got a pop a pill bitch
A sexy brown, put it down, to make a mill bitch
I mean a fine bitch, a top of the line bitch
Won't drop no dime bitch, down to do the time bitch
I mean a thick bitch, trying to get rich bitch
That'd hit the interstate with two bricks bitch
A all in bitch, a top ten bitch
A S class with the blue lens bitch
I got a super star bitch, a sipping bar bitch
A third coast raised that'll take a nigga charge bitch
I got a baller bitch, a shot caller bitch
That'll pay for a young nigga lawyer bitch
You got a young hoe, I mean a dumb hoe
I got a post a million dollar fucking bond hoe
A thick thigh bitch, D.K.N.Y. bitch
So when we get married don't ask a young nigga why bitch

[Chorus - 4x]

[E.S.G.]
We off the heezy, we off the heezy
And if she ain't a gangsta bitch I don't need it - 4x

BIATCH, off the heezy, fa sheezy
E.S.Geezy, down in H-Tizzy bizzy baby
KnowI'mtalkingbout, platinum sizzold
For the 9-9 and the two tripple izzo
Ha ha, anybody my partner St. Clizzaire
KnowI'mtalkingbout, BIATCH

. . .


[Hook]
I tried fry, now what in the fuck it do for me
A damn thang, now that fried shit is history
I tried snorts, had to leave the dust alone
Cause in that mind state, you can't get your hustle on

[E.S.G.]
Responsibilities, and priorities
It's up to me to be a G, wanna succeed
Responsibilities, and priorities
It's up to me to be a G, wanna succeed
This for them G's running that game, claiming they down with you
But once you're broke with nothing to smoke, no one around with you
Leave it alone better get gone, before you do a whole zone
Drugs'll end your career, or yeah heard the same song
Put the blame on, anybody doing me wrong
When all I need to do, is get on my knees and pray and be strong
Been blessed for so long, the Lord is on his throne
He telling me my chest gone, so now it's the microphone
Mama screaming pop dreaming, wonder where his son at
I keep it up be out of luck, I'll probably have a cardiac
Arrest best know that I'm blessed, for minorities
If a G wanna succeed, best to get priorities
Or lying 'fore you find, you can't shine doing time
Been there done that, don't wanna press rewind
So this mastermind, designed a way to get it on
Recognized responsibilities, and leave that bullshit alone

[Hook]

[E.S.G.]
Man it's so hard, to survive in this game
With all these trials and tribulations, I felt you might get mayn
Steady putting that shit on my brain, and helping me maintain
After the hype get down, I look around I see the pain
Man it's real in this game, the streets don't give a damn
A lot of niggaz went broke, behind the funky ass ram
Some don't understand, where the sherm'll take ya
Off the ledge flat on your head, to meet your damn maker
Keep my mind on my paper, I get high on this money
Don't wait to fall broke, to go to church on a Sunday
Peer pressure don't run me, fuck follow the leader
I be damned if I go wild, being a under achiever
So all you nonbelievers, that think that I returned
They thought that I'd come short, to the snorts and the sherm
You boys best to learn, can't hold me down man
I keep coming keep coming, so check the soundscan

[Hook - 2x]

[E.S.G.]
This is your brain on drugs, saw the commercial
Damn that shit'll hurt you, when all your friends dessert you
Your gal wanna search you, cause all the trust is gone
Been up two days in a row, don't you know the dust is gone
Can't get your hustle on, what's wrong with your mind state
That shit got you shook, and you done took the crime rate
Opened up the notch, don't you see where it got me
In and out of jail, plus some jackers almost shot me
Crackers wanna knock me, so do the shife
Like Jigga nigga, this a hard knock life
And y'all call it keeping it real, but y'all ain't keeping us alive
We best to open our eyes, and learn to survive
Without the fo'-five, or that desert eagle blade
Check my laptop Macintosh, squashing shit the legal way
Responsibility, can you define that term
Or them guys around the corner, so you boys better learn

[Hook - 2x]

. . .


[Chorus - 2x]
Where the hoes at, where the foes at
Where the smoke at, nigga roll that
Hoes shut your motherfucking mouth and get naked
Since they opened up the shop, you know we gone wreck it

[E.S.G.]
See I hear they talking down and the boys spreading rumors
National club hoppers, and all you consumers
Who keep em all body rocking from state to state
Cause the real gone be real and the fake gone be fake
So I'ma, regulate and I'ma squash the chat
Draw low in my fo' door Escallade or Cadillac
Looseless ain't shit, think it's time I shut em
No pros ain't shit, I think it's time I bug em
Up to the Californ' bring all the dollars home
Southside represent, still sitting on chrome
So what's wrong, you ain't think I could do it again
I'm off the heezy, fa sheezy number one top ten
I'm on fire, can't sleep on the E
Everyday Street Gangsta that's E.S.G.
And I'm swanging and banging
Thinking throwed, fifty shine for sho'

[Chorus - 2x]

[E.S.G.]
Put your money on us, sticky green and stuff
Number one on hit singles ten weeks cause that's us
This for the ballas, young shot callas
Nineteen inch blades on the Impalas
Call us to get leid tonight
I got sweets rolled tight, I got sprayed by ice
I hit the hiiiighway, rolling my waaay
You're my mofos, raise up the window, blaze up the indo
Now uh, what up whodie, what up soldier
How you like us now Wreckshop taking over
Put it in your face yeah we some real true playas
If you feel us your some killas throw your rollies in the air
The big don figga's back, I'm back on track
I got a four in a sack tell me where them hoes at

[Chorus - 3x]

[E.S.G.]
7-1 Tre that's my area code
We sipping serve, flipping birds never riding on the road
Bo' guarding the boulevard riding regulars on a one way
Car wash we squash on a Sunday
Ain't plexing in Texas, gripping grain respected
Riding Lacs or Lexus, south man we exit
Flipping more cream means, green by the hour
Sipping codeine leaning like an Eiffel Tower
Got boppers and shoppers, car hoppers and choppers
Trunk poppers, glock cockers, block lockers can't stop us
Drop the top and I roll, sticky green and I'm smoking
Hitting poppa doser, feticcini and copeling
Some roof wide open, watch the good game flip
As the Texas freak nick showing wood grain strip
If you trip on a dip, I got a clip for the jack
So tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me where the hoes at

[Chorus - 4x]

. . .


[Chorus - 2x]
The boys in the south are so damn hard
We gone ride the freeway we'll bombard the boulevard
knowing nothing in life, but pushing bricks and making hits
Don't fuck with us boy, down south the shit

[E.S.G.]
Woke up quick, at about noon
Just thought that I had to hit the southside soon
Got to smoke a sweet 'fore my day begins
'Fore T. Jones start tripping on how I park my benz
Bout to roll, damn near went blind
I got the Gucci shades to block the sunshine
Ran inside I got my gat and my clip
Two out of town licks hit me on the hip
Then I bailed outside stashed the desert eagle
Got a Harris County warrant so I'm riding it legal
Then I used the Screw tape beat, boom boom
I was bumping that old school P-A-T
It was Ghetto Dreams, at the top of the list
Top drop, Wreckshop got the rocks on my wrist
For my grip bitch, I go to war on it, cause I'm
The tightest rapper from Houston since the face with the scar on it

[Chorus - 2x]

[Hawk]
I bombard the boulevard switching lane to lane
Boss hogging the highway in my wide frame
Gripping the grain, staying on top of my game
Bringing the pain, to those analyzing my name
We swing them thangs, now boy we wrecking shop
Thangs done changed, Hump and E sitting on top
Give us a prop, you boys can't hang with us
You better stop, smoking that angel dust
We dangerous, you need 20/20 to see
Proclaiming us, taking over the industry
Drop and leave, banging some E.S.G.
Constantly, putting it down for the P-A-T
Master P, taught me some ghetto dope
Lil Keke, put it down and showed me the ropes
Now you see, it all take a microscope
Down south, we the shit with this lyrical dope, we hard

[Chorus - 2x]

[E.S.G.]
Cooling on the corner with a Prime Co. phone
You can tell that the southside was his home
More mail then the rest of the hustlers
And he kept a 40 glock for the busters
Increase the, and peaced up
I sip the methyzine codeine, mixed with the peach crush
I set tripping chunks out east stuff
When it's time for drama we coming deep in the must
Cruising down the street in my benzo
Boys smoking a sweet, sipping a four
Went to the park to get the scoop
P.C. and Big E pulls up in a coupe
Told me E Po-Yo, bout to drop a damn solo
Want me to come through with some tight ass vocals
Best believe my sixteen gone be hard as fuck
Cause E.S.G. puts it down for H-Town what's up

[Chorus - 4x]

. . .


(talking)
Man, hold up, the best from the north
Done connected with the best from the south
Ha ha, Wreckshop and Swishahouse baby
Slim Thug and E.S.G. putting it all in your ma'fucking face
So no matter what you boys out there banging
KnowI'mtalkinbout, Angle Watts on the north
We banging Screw over here, ain't nothing but love baby
We come together to make this paper, gone show you
How it's going down for the 9-9 baby like this

[E.S.G.]
Picture me balling while I be crawling in a hummer
Since I be's a fool boy that's why I roll my toy for the summer
Rolling my wine very red, T.V.s behind my head
Since I signed down with Wreckshop, got all them haters scared
Now boppers turn they head when they see me popped up on fours
Gray insides and buck eyed with my suicide doors
Caught my G's a show, dropped two ki's of snow
Siran wrapped it in plastic so the F-E-D's won't know
Young nigga my dick hang low, so bitches watch this man rate
You can blame it on the bar all them damns and eggs
Bumping our benz, blue lens, twenties spin I'm flexing
South Park, ?Greychow? like Marchelow do I'm teching
Wreckshop and Swishahouse wrecking, they say that can't nobody stop us
Nigga we bail in V-12, with a gray piece on the bottom
Underground tapes, we drop em, plus blaze we chop em
E.S.G. and Slim Thug so look here cuz you can't knock it

(Chorus)
Now when I come down I be blowing up the north
And when I come down I be chucking up the south
Swishahouse and Wreckshop don't stop, body rocking in the drop
Slim Thug and E.S.G., riding on threes bleeding the block
Say what, the boppers bop, and uh, the choppers chop
Swishahouse and Wreckshop not uh, we can't be stopped
Slim Thug and E.S.G., riding on threes bleeding the block

Say what, the boppers bop, and uh, the choppers chop
I heard you want proof, I heard you want that Michael Watts

[Slim Thug]
Well it's the Mr. Slim Thug straight off the north or down south
See I floss, big body boss and represent Swishahouse
They wanna top on my city and I sit on top of 4-4's
I stay on top of my game, and lay on top of these hoes
I be cocked up on three, from home said to D.C.
It's R.I.P. to P-A-T cause ain't no plexing by me
See Slim and E.S.G., stay playa made and get paid
On the north it's Gucci shades and keep a fresh set of braids
From Gulf Bank to Calvicane the north side ride pride
See I'm loud on buck eyed as my drop top glide
No we can't be denied, cause it's the Swishahouse time
For 9-8 got on the grind and 9-9 I'ma shine
The north and south done put it down, it's R.I.P. to Al Flex
We'd rather roll wreck, G.S. licks with baguettes on our necks
Ain't nothing but playas from Houston Tex, whether we got braids or fades
Cause it don't matter where you from long as you trying to get paid

(Chorus)

[E.S.G.]
Pulled outside the interstate, get the weight to pyrex shake
Trunk shake, break a sweat break off that 2-88

[Slim Thug]
And I'm, flossing off on that I-45
With Mario on my side, playing 9-9 Live

[E.S.G.]
Candies spray on top of the grain, ball and parlay we playa made
We be shining, piece full of diamonds, reclining with a razor fade

[Slim Thug]
It's that Homestead till I'm dead, where boys ain't scared to go fed
Roll candy blue and that red, with zig-zags in our head

[E.S.G.]
We drop the screen niggas, we looking clean niggas
We gripping grain, swang and bang from south man to Martin Luther King niggas

[Slim Thug]
From 5th Ward to Angelzone, is where I roam
Where them thugs bout it, bout it got they hand on the chrome

[E.S.G.]
It's from the club, to the park, from the tre to the flo'
Wreckshop and Swishahouse fin to shut the do's on the them hoes

[E.S.G & Slim Thug]
And uh, them boppers bop, see uh, the choppers chop
Swishahouse and Wreckshop niggas know we can't be stopped

(Chorus - 2x)

. . .


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