Artist: E.S.G. Album: Everyday Street Gangsta Song: Shut Them Haters Up Typed by: Lil Hustle [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]