Artist Name: # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Song Title: # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z



E.s.g. - Shut Them Haters Up Lyrics

[Hook]
Now listen dog, I know how to shut them haters up
My solution shit, get your paper up
I been a soldier boy, so much I show my swag
You ever seen a quarter mill, in a grocery bag
Money make em mad, money-money make em mad
Land of the trill where the fifth with a grill, where the boys be acting bad
I say money make em mad, money-money make em mad
Baby need food and the light bill due, my people need cash

[E.S.G.]
Only God can judge us, go 'head and do your thang
You tired of being broke, Obama say it's time for change
Hard to get a job, when you a convict
We do construction work, yeah we good with bricks
Get paid like a boss, show you what the grind'll do
But we got laid off, my ese got the swine flu
Anything you do, we do it times two
So look at the crime rate, George Bush we blame you
Yeah government still trying to hold us down, 'specially if you black or brown
Mama can't work she too sick, got him a brick he trapping now
Now I can't judge what you do
Cause when you need some money man, it's all on you keep it try g'eah

[Hook]

[E.S.G.]
They want that E shit that G shit, that O-Z to a ki' shit
S.U.C. shit, who the best me bitch
If you snitch, hit him with that 2-2-3 quick
Give me one and a half dog, I bet I'll make me three bricks
Tell them jackers, I'ma half to bleed em
Excuse me lil' man, this a cartel meeting
See use to cook it up, but I ain't got no time bitch
7-50-11, I gave my brother in law a nine quick
I need a down chick, matter of fact I got one
Ride or die chick, can't you tell how she raise my son
Fuck the judge, I'm thugging till I'm buried
I keep that thang on me, like I'm Plexico Burress yeah

[Hook]

[E.S.G.]
G-boy olympics, we call it trap and field
It's hunting season dog, we eat what we trap and kill
DJ say them trill, after paper yeah it's long
They swim on steroids dog, my money strong
I'm still fresh, like kush up out the bag
Obama told me tell George Bush, kiss his ass
Paper stacks tall as Yao, like Pacquiao rip em up
A body bag boss, hell yeah I zip em up
With my space age stash, whole dash lifting up
Better strive for your dreams, we believe and give it up
Hell yeah it's E.S.G., on the grind a long time
Them haters they still hate, tell them all to get in line
I say it's E.S. to the G, on the grind a long time
A lot of niggaz tried, they couldn't take mine
See can't stop my shine, I'm staying on my grind
You niggaz ain't work, it's my motherfucking time nigga

[Hook]



E.s.g. lyrics