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E.S.G.




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Альбом E.S.G.



2006
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. . .


[E.S.G.]
June 3rd, the day I was born
Lil' nappy head nigga, t-shirt all torn
Mama dropped out of school, in the 8th grade
Kids across the street, they use to sell lemonade
Shit I bought a bar of soap, and a box of razor blades
I had different thoughts, I'm trying to get paid
In church every sunday, praying for some hope
Asking God, that I don't grow up broke
Now I'm down on my knees, asking God why
Can't have no suede Pumas, or no fucking Fila's
Step-daddy died, he had full blown AIDS
He was tooting up, and then the nigga started shooting up
Uncle started recruiting us, he was hustling crack
It's safe to say, I was born in the trap
No longer going to church, but I'm quick to pull my gun out
Basketball MVP, the trophy's at my mom house
Hoop dreams faded, nobody called
Back to the block, full time hogg
18 got probation, for a pound of weed
Year later I'm connected, get fronted half-a-ki's
Saw my first thirty G's, games getting deeper
Moved to H-Town, cause the bricks were cheaper
Somebody started snitching, now the word is out
And letter factors in my sofa nigga, birds in my couch
FED's hit my house, they ain't find shit G
Still tried to give me 20, for a damn conspiracy
Asking bout my niggaz, ain't no snitch in I
told the D.A., eat a dick and die
Round the same time, I was fucking with Screw
Gave me "Swangin' And Bangin", the first hit a nigga ever do
And thanks to him I got love, so I represented
Six months later "Ocean of Funk", hundred thousand independent
Probation violation, I'm back on lock
Dropped "Sailin' Da South", just to keep my name hot
Video got shot, MLK Boulevard
Three months 'fore that, caught a fucking murder charge
Nigga broke in my crib, shot my partna in the head
So I grabbed the chopper, left the bitch nigga dead
Instead of self defense, they tried to give me murder one
Three years in the Penn, homie that wasn't fun
Touched down on the streets, "Return of the Living Dead"
Another fifty thousand independent, get my bread
Helped Wreckshop, make bout 1.3
"Shinin' & Grindin", "Dirty 3rd", "City Under Siege"
Had Flip under my wing, Slim Thug too
And both them niggaz switched, like some homosexuals do
From "Wanna be a Baller", to "Getcha Hands Up"
You wanna fuck with me, you gotta get your grands up
Real niggaz stand up, fake niggaz hit the deck
Everyday Street Gangsta, I'm the epidemy of that
No holding me back, I'm part of God's plan
Angel in disquise, I walk in God's hands
And like I said befo', the devils wanna clip my wings
Immortal underdog, call me Constantine
Fuck the movie ring, it's real lifetime
Don't believe me, ask C-Murder ask Shyne
Rappers like 50, use some real gangstas mayn
I really had a murder charge, really moved the caine
Told to swang and bang, when I was only 17
I knew about syrup, pop trunks and screens
Nintendos in the dash, candy paint shining
Boys already know, I'm way mo' than grinding
So yeah, now you bitch niggaz know
What E.S.G. stand fo', that's my motherfucking intro nigga

(*talking*)
Know I'm saying, E.S.G.
A legend in this shit, know I'm saying
This album right here, is dedicated
To two special cats, my dog Nick Sholtz
And Matney on lock, let's get this money
What up Duke, smoke some'ing Junior

. . .


(*scratching*)

[Hook - 2x]
(ten thousand, on the wrist for the boss)
Now hold up
(ten thousand, on the wrist for the boss)
Now hold up
(ten thousand, on the wrist for the boss
Told me take my chain off, let my body defrost)

[E.S.G.]
Huh, go on po' you a cup
G'eah you's a G mayn, go on throw it up
Huh you blowing big mayn, go on smoke it up
Look how we walk down here, look how we talk down here
When I say swang and bang, I ain't talking bout a Crip or Blood
The way we do our cars, is ridiculous
You call em rags, man we call em drops
Y'all call your money qwat, man we call our knots
Call our female bops, don't punch clocks or ride stocks
Went to school with my rocks, nothing but money in my lunch box
Bigfoot sasquatch, that's how I'm stepping in the game
Step down for a minute, they let the nigga gain
Now I'm speaking at the podium, smooth as lenolium
Southside veteran, paint wetter than petroleum
Yeah, so watch me do my thang
So go on ride with your boy, if you understand my slang

[Hook - 2x]

[E.S.G.]
Yeah world, guess who's back
Might not know me or not, come to the bottom of the map
Screwed Up Click regime, one of the hardest on the team
Range Rovers sporting mean, like bulvarian cream
Back in the day me and K, apple green Suburban
Took 36 to 88, like changing Bettis to Irvin
Talking OZ's, cause we OG's
Look like a janitor's office, cause my desk full of keys
Whole neck's full of B's, want my stash a hundred
Got some'ing for you jackers, that'll blast ya ski mask dummy
To the boys that tried to rob me, show me where that spot at
I put that on my mama, that's where you gonna ride at

[Hook - 2x]

[E.S.G.]
Working the wheel keeping it real, down South we call it trill
This one year my dreams fulfilled, no more teams hogging the deal
Paying my mills displaying my skills, self defense I had to kill
Had the car had the crib, way before had the deal
Street credit but popping it still, never been known for popping a pill
Dream setters that's for real, even Nelly got a grill
I never sky dived, they say it's real hard
I never climbed a mountain, watch me climb the billboards
Can't go to jail snitches tell, bout every gram you sell
Say they love me game is ugly, like Sam Cassell
Independent Roger Clemens, better back down trick
I heard enough about you kings, let me see if that crown fit

[Hook - 4x]

. . .


(*talking*)
In case you forgot, a name
That's been ringing on your block, years
Independent hits, they always hot
So therefor all hail, the return of the king

[Hook]
Move around, cause I'm right back in the house
Back in the building, standing up for the South
Yeah, I'm one of the realest ever doin this
It's more than music, so homie join my movement and uh
Move around, cause I'm right back in the house
Back in the building, standing up for the South
Dropping hits, yep E's a star
And I'm right back, like I left the keys to my car whoa

[E.S.G.]
Move around, cause I'm right back in the house
One of the first up out the South, with thirty G's in my mouth
All these brand new rappers, they say they flipping birds
I guess it's the in thang, they say they sipping syrup
That's a damn lie, I never seen em with a cup
Say they ride big wheels, I never seen em in a truck
But I seen em riding a bus, let's be for real bro
Only seen em riding candy, was on the video
Now they saying that they smoke cush, cause everybody do it
I guess they get they ideas, from everybody music
I ain't talking bout one, cause it's mo' individuals
These boys in this rap game, so hypocritcal
So damn political, and don't even vote
Talking bout these dutches and swisha sweets, and don't even smoke
Brand new Rolex, or should I say recoupelex
Soon as the label give it to ya, they gon take it out ya check yeah

[Hook]

[E.S.G.]
Move around, cause I'm right back in the house
Some drop bricks, we drop hits down South
I can't lie, the hottest thang going is Swishahouse
But the whole movement started, at my homie Screw's house
I ain't hating homie, cause that's the god damn truth
Don't believe what I'm saying, come get some god damn proof
Tropicana orange juice, naw that ain't our color
We like candy blue or red, inside's peanut butter
That's interior dummy, don't relate or hate me
The picture ain't clear, I put it in HD
Ask some Southern DJ's, who drop hits they spin em
Yep Swangin' And Bangin', one of the songs of the millenium
Wanna be a Baller, that's a double platinum hook
I got about a thousand mo', in my notebook
Thousand fans waving they hands, me and Big Moe rocking in
While you big budget artists, hottest steady flopping man

[Hook]

[E.S.G.]
Move around, cause I'm right back in the house
It ain't no secret, trend setters down South
Working wood wheels, with TV's keeping it real
Look how many cats, trying to rock a ice grill
Look at Bun B's "Trill", number one on the charts
He was long overdue, you know that's straight from the heart
I pay homage to those, who opened do's and paved way
Getto Boys, Scarface, Pimp C and Lil' J
Suavehouse, Cash Money, No Limit to Screw
East coast West coast, yep I wanna thank you
For Run DMC, to the Tribe Called Quest
N.W.A., Snoop and Dre out West
Spice 1, Above the Law, there's so many groups
All the early entrpreneurs, like Russell Simmons and Lou
I'm the truth in the booth, a million hits on my sleeve
Every year I reutrn, like it's New Years Eve I'm screaming

[Hook]

. . .


(*talking*)
G'eah know I'm saying, it's going down right now
We got three legends in here
And we'd like to welcome everybody, to the South
Know I'm tal'n bout, so we gon take you on a lil' tour
And show you how we do it, where we come from
Know I'm saying, or like we say know I'm tal'n bout
(already, know I'm saying hey it's Koopa uh)

[Chamillionaire]
Stay froze up with the bluest wrist, stay coming through in the newest whip
Stay iced out like a new refrig-erator, say I do it big
Cause they know I do and they know it's true, and you mad when nobody don't notice you
Cause we rolling through and they know it too, Chamilitary it's Chamilitary known to do
What they can't million dollar crib, multi-million dollar deal
Multi-colored diamond grill, it's my multi-million dollar year
I'm for real I'm for real, it's the truth of the streets really trying to feel
Behind the wheel grinding still, cause I'm trying to feel on a diamond wheel
Swang the swangas with the swang and banga, in Suburbans and drops
When we pop up, niggaz know what time it is like the Burger King watch
If they don't then they can get beef, like it's a Burger King stop
Make an order get your recorder, while I murder it pop
I got my hand on my phone, they say it don't look like my phone
Police trying to catch me riding dirty, that's my clip and my chrome uh
Give me back my weapon you wise guy, stop hating cause the way a nigga ride fly
Turn all the speakers up in the fly ride, have a nigga block sounding like a drive by

[Hook]
If you wanna ride with us, you gotta be down to bust
If you wanna ride with us, talking to my G's and hustlers
If you wanna ride with us, 24's up on the truck
If you wanna ride with us, let me see ya throw your side up

[E.S.G.]
Ride with us or come roll with me, E.S.G. and my dog Bun B
And the C-H-A-M-I double L-I-O-N-A to the I-R-E
Me and Pimp C in a Bentley mayn, million sold independent mayn
Told you boys you ain't eat like us, trunk'll pop but u ain't beat like us
O.G. out the S.U.C., 0-7 ESV
R.I.P. to my dog Todd Profit, DJ Screw and P-A-T
ATL gon trap with it, rock and finger snap with it
H-Town slow it down, chop and double tap with it
Louisiana pop jiggas with it, diamond grill and get triller with it
Sipping lean with the championship team, watch me Pittsburgh Stealer with it
Fish scale like a real O.G., too many e-mails for me to read
www.myspace.com, forward slash yup E.S.G
Independent I'm a giant, backhand boys who act defiant
36 OZ wave my wand, go fade the one like Kobe Bryant
Never seen purple smoke this strong, big old spokes'll poke out on chrome
Leave it alone or get chrome to the dome, represent for your home if you know this song

[Hook]

[Bun B]
I got the keys in the ignition, the dro up in the gaurd
Candy dripping off my swisher shoes, cup in my car
I'm a ghetto superstar, I can cut any corner
Get to flipping and flossing, through any hood that I wanna
Bun B back up in the slab, navigating the town
Chunking deuces and showing love, when I'm coming around
I don't have to wanna try to be down, I been a G with it
All the game need, is Bun B and Pimp C in it
Underground King, P.A.T. that's where I'm from
Representing, until they send me back to kingdom come
Hustlers they want my downfall, short stoppers want my cuts
Rappers wanna take my spot, but they can all just get my nuts
Fingers up haters down, free the Pimp that's the drill
Lady shining on the grill, that's how we keep it trill
Diamonds up against the wood, pistol on my side
Banging Screw that's how we do in Texas, that's how we ride

[Hook]

. . .


(*talking*)
Brand new, E.S.G.
"Keep Getting It", g'eeeeeah

[Hook]
Keep getting it mayn
Boy don't stop, till you reach the top
Boy don't stop, unless your block get hot
Boy don't stop until you stack a fat knot, know what I'm tal'n bout
Having ice in your mouth, (know what I'm tal'n bout)
Big ol' wheels poking out, (know what I'm tal'n bout)
Do-do to purpled out, (know what I'm tal'n bout)
We must be talking bout the South, (know what I'm tal'n bout)

[E.S.G.]
Keep getting it mayn, stacking your bread
I know you heard, what Kanye West said
G'eah, President don't care
See my cousin from New Orleans, he grew up on welfare
So he couldn't evacuate, hurricane did him bad
Lost his grandma his pad, all the cash he had stashed
But uh keep getting it, my cousin he was with that
Got his two G's from Red Cross, then turned around and flipped that
I could make a mill with no deal, say thug that's for real
Don't believe us down here, peep the grill peep the grill
Not the one on my Lac, but the one in my mouth
A lot of bosses in the game, but there's a new one down South g'eah

[Hook]

[E.S.G.]
Keep getting it mayn, stacking your do'
If you split flows, then hit the road and do a show
But if you can find, to the block a ghetto
Go ahead and make it snow, on the low g'eah
Keep getting it mayn, if you don't rap
Got some homies on the block, get they money in the traps
Stay stacking cheese, staying away from them rats
I guess its safe to say, the jealous ones got me strapped
ATL where ya at, H-Town where ya at
The new capital of rap, from the bottom of the map
In my two do' beamer, clothes fresh from the cleaners
The Coast got money but it ain't come from FEMA, we getting it mayn

[Hook]

[E.S.G.]
Keep getting it mayn, stacking dividends
Buy you a house, before you buy a new Benz
Now-a-day's, you know its quick to lose friends
Especially, when you got a lot of ends
Halogen blue lens, shining down the boulevard
These rappers say they hard, they need extra bodyguards
When times get hard, bring out the best in me
Never ever let these A&R's, control my destiny
Pitbull pedigree, last of a dying breed
I'm sick of paying taxes, that I never get to see
Yep its M-O-B, yep its M.O.E.
Money Over Everything, except the G-O-D
You know it's E.S.G., don't claim no B's or C's
But see I'm A, double F-I-L-I-A-T-E-D
Affiliated they hate it, all upset cause we made it
All my life been degraded, now my cash elevated cause I'm getting it

[Hook]

(*talking*)
Brand new, E.S.G.
"Keep Getting It", g'eeeeeah, g'eeeeah

. . .


(*talking*)
Hold up, nothing but the real nothing but the truth
E.S.G., Grease Monkeys man
Anything I put my heart in, it's gotta be real
It's gotta be true, cause that's what I am
Hundred percent, g'eah g'eah what

[E.S.G.]
A new year I pop champagne, and let the guns rain
But don't forget these dirty ass niggaz, ain't changed
No need to say they name, ol' fake ass thugs
Lemonade in they veins, yeah it's bitch in the blood
Ever snitched on a nigga, then I'm talking to you
Ever hated on somebody, then I'm talking to you
My partna Nick doing twenty, killed a nigga for his cousin
Been in the Pen damn near ten, his cousin ain't sent him nothing
That's a damn shame, same thang in the rap game
Niggaz scandolize your name, like Rock James or Eddy Cane
But I'm ready mayn, to bring the light to the South
Ain't no more helping fake, transvestites out
So bring your tracks and your stacks, you won't last ten bars
Wanna walk in my shoes, you won't last ten yards
Underground bully, and you cocksuckers know that
Keep fucking with me, and I'ma send you where the pope at g'eah

[Hook]
No matter what, we go through
I keep it real, you know I stay true
And if I'm down, with you
Then you got a real nigga, rolling with you
No matter what, we go through
I keep it real, you know I stay true
And if I'm down, with you
Then you got a real nigga, riding with you

[E.S.G.]
Second verse bout my mama, man I really miss her
Hadn't got a call, or heard from her since Christmas
I love her to death, and I'd do anything for her
If I don't send money, she think I'm trying to ignore her
Lord knows ain't the truth, you gotta have some understanding
How you think I got these cars, and this custom built mansion
Got a son and a daughter, a wife of my own
Can't pay all the bills, I got a life of my own
Some say I might be wrong, expressing myself through a song
The only way to talk, we ain't talking on the phone
I'ma love her till I'm gone, whether you know it or not
And I can still smell the red beans, boiling in the pot
That's why when I was on lock, ain't asked for no cash
Had my wife on the road, out there busting her ass
See I'm down with her, like I'm down with you
I accepted your husband, so accept my wife too g'eah

[Hook]

[E.S.G.]
What you know bout being a father, when you ain't seen me
Some three months early, lil' one pound premi'
Emergency pregnancy, heard my lil' man crying
Doctor said it's a chance, he could be crippled or blind
Couldn't breathe on his own, for three months long
Sat by his bed waiting, for his lungs to get strong
Now he rapping on my song, saying his A's and B's
He love Scooby Doo, Spongebob and Chucky Cheese
Started school early, he was counting that too
They told me no more fucking up, he counting on you
As for my daughter Chocolate, so much time been lost
That's why I get whatever, it don't matter the cost
No you don't see me much, yeah we missed some days
I'm trying to make sho', your tuition be paid
Before you get old, because you never know what happened
I'm on the grind getting it, ain't no benefits in rapping yeah

[Hook]

. . .


[Hook]
We riding Cheves and them Lacs, on them thangs
Down Souh, that's how them boys do it mayn
Get out of line, them thangs rain
Paint change, everytime we switching lanes
(from the back-back, to the front and to the side
In the Lac-Lac with a blunt, now where the light
From the back-back, to the front and to the side
In the Lac-Lac with a blunt, now where the light)

[E.S.G.]
I'm back in my hood, we gripping wood we call it grain
It's the man who wrote "Wanna be a Baller", and made you "Swang & Bang"
Yup E.S.G. you know my name, forty G's of in my chain
My rap sheet before the rap game, I had ki's off in my Range
My homie left me hanging, yup he signed with Pharrell
That ain't stopping shit, round here we getting this mail
For my homies in jail, like Beanie Sigel and Young Pimp
Come back home for black chrome, on a 300 M
Dodge Magnum station wagon, I done told ya son
I'm like Pac, Big and Pun all rolled in one
Yup real O.G. I been that G, still got T.V.'s in my seats
Ice the size of Chris Rock teeth, heat the size of Yao Ming feet
You can call me Shaq, the way they threw me in the cross
Now my team's on top, you can't make the playoffs
Yup break boys off my trunk popping, baller blocking ain't money stopping
Mess with me gon R.I.P., like O.D.B. or Johnny Cochran

[Hook]

[E.S.G.]
Not Mike Jones I'm still tipping, ain't no room for Robin Givens
Need a chick that's bout her bidness, like Kimora Lee Simons
Baby this Baby Phat, baby this baby that
Hot boy like Weezy, but I got Baby stacks
Damon Dash cash, so mo' yay we gotta flip
Till my bank account swoll up, like Jay-Z bottom lip
Yeah we thugging in this bitch, steady busting at my foes
Got that Ruben Studdard money, it be busting out my clothes
Standing tall as light poles, or a statue in the park
I'm the wizard tin man, I'm here to give you boys some heart
Down here we spit it for real, icicles in my grill
Candy green say I'm deuce, look like a pickle on wheels
No American idols round here no Paula, Randy or Simon
Just a old school Impala, rolling candy shining
If you grinding keep grinding, cause ain't nothing in life for free
I'ma be a G-A-N-G-S-T-A, till the day I D-I-E g'eah

[Hook]

[E.S.G.]
What you know bout groupie freaks, Gucci shoes and Gucci seats
Bout my ends like Pimpin' Ken, ghetto streets to executive suites
Ashton Mars and EXT's, platinum screens and DVD's
28's and 23's, six T.V.'s in the SUV
S.U.C. now I bet you E, spitting nothing but hits for boys
Bring a role of toilet paper (why), cause I'm shitting on boys
Underground bully, I ain't scared to smash it to ya
This year I'm punking rappers, you can call me Ashton Kutcher
Blades chopping like a butcher, they can't stand me now
Can't be like 50 Cent new album, and let my fan's down
This for my Vice Lord GD's, Bloods, Crips, Latin Kings
Blacks, whites, Asians, everybody in between
Yeah that chopper to chop ya, srop toppers can't stop us
Crooked coppers think they got us, so they watch us with binoculars
Bottle popping trunk knocking, stopping traffic in the Lac
Cause I got one-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight, 15's in the back g'eah

[Hook]

. . .


(*talking*)
I usually don't get into all that, back and forth
Industry shit, but when a nigga push it to the edge
I gotta introduce him to my alter ego
Alphabet murder, nigga

[Hook - 2x]
If you know what's good, better watch your back
I hope you got it understand, better watch your back
I know you heard about me, don't come around my way
Cause I don't play, nope I don't play

[E.S.G.]
A for asshole, what you starting to act like
Or A for the asshole, your baby mama like the pipe
Nigga T-Bone Terry, even Big Jake fucker
While you was out doing shows, she was being a super dick sucker
B is for your bark, cause you got's no bite
What about the Super Bowl weekend, you got punked yeah right
A nigga knocked ya dizzy, where you couldn't stand up
And if it wasn't for your brother, you probably really got fucked up
C is for the way, that I'm connected in the streets
I'm bout to rap his ass, like a freak in cap capris
I promise this the last time, I'm rapping bout it G
Ain't no mo' back and forth, for me on a c.d.
D is for the dirty ass ways, you got
I'm like them Brent Barry brothers, I don't miss a open shot
And matter of fact, I'll take this battle on gladly
I'm Shaq or Stoudemire, you a black Shawn Bradley nigga

[Hook - 2x]

[E.S.G.]
E's for E.S.G., that's self explanatory
Every hit you ever had, came from a laboratory
Now F is for the fear, I'm bout to put in his heart
Like mexican do stolen cars, I'm bout to tear that ass apart
G is for the game, I shouldn't have game him for free
Now everything he do at his concerts, he got it from me
All that I don't mean, to start no riot
You know that's my line, young bitch be quiet
H is for the Hogg, that you claim to be
You woulda thought it was real, you saw how it came to me
Now I's for the independent money, I helped you make
But lying to Interscope, was your biggest mistake
Southside magician, watch E.S.G. make
A 6"6' bitch, transform into a cake
And J's for the justice, I never seemed to get
First Lil' Flip, and now this punk ass bitch the murder nigga

[Hook - 2x]

[E.S.G.]
K is for the kilo's, you claim to cook
Big clumsy ass nigga, don't know how a brick look
Now L, is for them lame ass songs you own
And the cars and ice, European self home
M, is for the money making moves motherfucker
When you see the Dodge Magnum, better move motherfucker
Now N is for the no name, niggaz I made stars
Or when they in the booth, the way I split up them bars
O is for the ostrich skin, in my old school
You had beef with Flip, talking bout what you gon do
Mad cause Flip, had Boss on his shirt
Nigga that shit that's so gay, you need a throwback skirt
Now P is for the pussy ass, nigga be bluffing
He wrote a same play with Flip, what he say nigga nothing
P is for the pussy ass nigga, be bluffing
We wrote a same play with Flip, what he say nigga nothing

[Hook - 2x]

[E.S.G.]
Q is for the million dollar questimone
Another alphabet murder, I'm coming for that throne
Now R is for the rhymes, helped ya get ya grands up
Braids and Fades to Excursion, to Getcha Hands up
What you help me make up, not a god damn thang
I could sue ya if I want, for half the Boss Hogg name
S is for the way, you tried to stab me in my back
My spine stainless steel, so I ain't feel that
Now T is for the thoed lines, I twist together
When I'm done, then they stitching to hold that ass together
Now U for undisputed, underground underdog
You ain't no fucking boss, you ain't no Outlaw
V is for this second E, I need to get it done
I'm tired of having faggots like Slim, for my son
W for the war, that I done already won
No need for X and Z, catch me on the next one murder nigga

[Hook - 2x]

(*talking*)
Yeah, I ain't never been the type a nigga
To glorify my murder charge, my drug charge
I don't feel like that, I'm tired of this black on black shit
I wanna say stop the violence
But you always, got somebody testing ya
Pushing ya, you know the kinda nigga that bump ya in the club
For no reason and don't say excuse me, ha-ha
But see I'ma let ya live today nigga, now ask yaself why g'eah

. . .


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