E.s.g.

E.s.g. - Ball Till We Die lyrics

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(feat. Noke D)



[talking]

Off the heezy baby, knowI'mtalkingbout

We gone do this thang till a nigga six feet deep

Baby, we gone ball till we die on Wreckshop

And all these soldiers, knowI'mtalkingbout

KnowI'msaying, Screwed Up Click

Laff. Tex, everybody baby you knowI'msaying

Partner Big Shots, check it out, check it out



[E.S.G.]

Now I know by the year 1999, I'm gone shine

The bumping kid gone recline

Cause I'ma grind all the way to the summer

Then I'ma backdo' with the low Pro Yokohama's

And uh, bout to ball, I'ma let the screens fall

Then stuff the turkey full of sticky green for all y'all

And by this winter, this big money spender

I mean a G gone be this sold a ki to Marvin Siller

See niggas I get in it, I'm suppose to killa

I'm a soldier that the feds can't get close to nigga

Bout it Bout it like ? that's for love to forgive you

Wreckshop roll with choppers and bitch I kill you

Just for fucking with scrilla that's suppose to be in my bank account

Fuck a 3 for 10 cause once again we blowing dank by the ounce

Cause it's money over here, I match what you spend

We balling once again saw the benz with blue lens



[Chorus]

I don't see no reason why

Me and my g's we can't ball till we die

Sipping hennessy, and blowing big smoke

Yeah, I bullshit the definition of balling with you white folks

I don't see no reason why

Me and my g's we can't ball till we die

Now you can be a gangsta, pimp, playa, mac or a thug

Want all the ballas in the club toss it up what's up



[Noke D]

To be a G in New Orleans way down to H-Town

I 10 connect, reelect respect with the sound

Platinum bound, niggas making money forever

Surround sound, rolling Navigators with leather

Whoever, want to test this, we can wreck shit

Cause the shit don't stop we wreck shop, down in Texas

I bet this is the best shit you ever heard

From the third, niggas making money with words

Your vision's blurred, we drop bombs on al-bums

Got em body rocking and shocking down at Vietnam

We weather the storm, so bring the rain, sleet or snow

Ask your hoe, she know, how we go and we know

D baby, I'm still throwed in the game

Putting kicks, snares and bass lines to make bang

We living these ghetto dreams so I'm flashing my diamond rings

My high beams to the sky, it's E.S.G. and I



[Chorus]



[E.S.G.]

Twenty five lighters on my dresser, yes sir

Twenty five birds in my compressor, bet you

Feds won't find the damn onion

Cause I ain't tell a soul that I was coming

In a state of running back and fourth, can't take no shorts

Cause niggas I fuck with, got game like E.A. sports

Yes son we in the Source, boy my grill shining

Bustas best to plex Wreckshop is still climbing

If you want it in this game, you got to get it, get it

And once you get a mill ticket niggas will kick it

Plus hoe niggas do hoe thangs

But I'm a throwed nigga doing throwed thangs

So please mama may I, grow up to be a playa

It's hard trying to escape uh, these motherfucking hatas

I guess you see the platinum rollie and the Wreckshop piece

You boys can't hold me down it's my fourth release



[Chorus x2]



[talking]

Uh, man hold up, what's up D-Reck

What's up Noke D baby, you know it's going down

Baby, god damn right it's going down

It ain't no secret, it's already known

Wreckshop baby, L to the throne huh

Diamonds gone be shown uh

Bank account full grown

Gone ball till we gone man what

Catch up with P-A-T

Start it all over again, uh man, feel that
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Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

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Language: English

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