Esg Realist Rhymin Lyrics

Realist Rhymin Lyrics

f/ Lil'Flip



* send corrections to the typist



(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