E.S.G.

E.S.G. - Life of E.S.G. lyrics

rate me

[Hook]

Woke up in the morning, brushed the diamonds on my teeth

Picked out a dope 'fit, threw on a platinum piece, ha ha

Just another day (say what), in the life of E.S.G

And I wonder what God, got in store for me out on these streets

[E.S.G.]

See it's a dirty world, but it still roll tape

I done changed my ways, and these hoes still hate

I keep my head strong, so these devils can't tempt me

And every power, we some rocks and now I'm empty

My lil G's, from elementary

Either six feet deep, or in the Penitentiary

God's been good to me, so I floss on chrome

I show love to y'all turn around, and hate it in your songs

Now what's wrong, cause I'm ducking these FED's

Hit my stash for the infrared, and bust me a head

Enough said, y'all can talk down if you wanna

E.S.G. and Wreckshop, we keep it hot on every corner

Keep a on a eye level, the mind enemies

Use to have bad luck, like the Kennedy's

But I'm a G, and I'm close to the Third

But our life is so shife, so every night I say these words

Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray that the Lord just watch over me

E.S.G., playa Wreckshop soldier, somebody should told you

The life don't know, its have to move so fast

Cause one day you on the top, next day you on your ass

So I'ma mash, cause and I'ma mash

Talking bout mashing mayn

I'm up in Laxford, on the gas fa sho

I'm sitting low to the road, I hold it down but bold

Now what do you know should of rolled, these glass S-4's

I come down Benzo, platinum coated Lorenzos

Come by the bus stop, all my diamonds exposed

Hoes tipping on they toes, trying to peep out my low

My Lincoln truck on hold, my wardrobe bout explode

A brand new episode, called NWO

Wreckshop so throwed, by the year 2 triple O

Spending six zero's, on new studios

Now record deals come and go, so we want much mo'

Than a punky million dollas, for you to control our do'

At least I want fo', for videos and major shows

Cause with no promos, there's no platinum or gold

But niggaz act like hoes, when they get cash flow

We black owned independent, so don't ask no mo' and see

[Hook]

[E.S.G.]

Now I'ma mash for green, and get my green and my chedda

Peace still to P-A-T, it's ghetto dreams forever

When my partna was living, we bobbed and mashed together

Cause my rims done got better, candy paint done got wetter

Watch the fight whatever, four screens in the leather

Picking up a clear reception, no matter the weather

Gucci sweaters hide barettas, I call em up flashing wetters

Shoot em up my damn part, they got a metal detector

Now whenever however, whatever it is that ain't clever

To lose your life trying to wreck, the Houston trend setter

I am the I-10 connector, rare diamond collector

First time I might touch you, turn around and dissect you

Seen you readers call me Hector, cash fetching who sent you

If you want me I might check you, play like I never met you

Red dot reflector, I send them boys home sooner

E.S.G. call me, the lyrical Roy Jones Jr., maan

Talking bout mashing man [x2]

[Hook x2]

Get this song at:  amazon.com  sheetmusicplus.com

Share your thoughts

0 Comments found