[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
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