Back to the previous page

Artist: E.S.G. 
Album:  Owner's Manual 
Song:   Owner's Manual 
Typed by: Lil Hustle 

Now what you gon' do nigga 
You done fucked up the game 
  
(*talking*) 
(I can't stop), E.S.G. 
(he won't stop), S.U.C. 
(he won't stop), know I'm saying 
(cause I can't stop), g'eah 
  
[Hook] 
This the owner's manual, yeah the user's guide 
I tell you how to be fly, at the same time how to survive 
Follow my instructions, and read my directions 
And for your own protection, never reveal your connection hey 
Now this the owner's manual, I hope you boys read it 
Now most of the trill is gone, I'm exactly what you boys needed 
So if you luke warm, I can make you super hot 
I know the game in and out, Stuart Scott 
  
[E.S.G.] 
Chapter one, like Genesis and King James 
I'd never leave my team alone, sorry king James 
But things change, don't make the same mistakes twice 
Cause even hard niggaz fall, Kimbo Slice 
Some niggaz get life, for trying to get the cheaper price 
Don't take the whole pie my nigga, just eat your slice 
It's God's plan, if he want he'll delete your life 
But I'm a survivor, I'm built to concrete and pipe 
So while you sleep at night, you better say your prayers 
My circle hella tight, it ain't no room for squares 
So come in my lair, don't sit in the boss's chair 
You niggaz super dumb, if you think they fighting fair 
But ain't a damn thang free, unless we talking air 
And you can't walk up in my shoes, get another pair 
So I swear, this more than just a song 
Stop being a yes man my nigga, go get your own 
  
[Hook] 
  
[E.S.G.] 
Teleconetic lines, I make em move they mind 
Make em stop wasting they time, and get out on they grind 
Even the blind see I shine, with the blueprints that I designed 
To help you roll without selling your soul, and signing the dotted line 
Life of crime bumper recline, wind up in that confinement 
Won't trip my spaceship, just got a brand new allignment 
I'm far from human far from home, a alien clone 
Fuck Romo no homo, rather be Jerry Jones 
With my Vince McMahon playing, a chemical diagram 
And stuff a thousand and eight grams, in my bitch rental van 
Need a brand new dental plan, I keep spitting lava 
I'm so Southside, it's probably syrup in my slagga 
A bird and a chopper, will help you get you plenty bread 
A couple bricks and a snitch, get you twenty FED 
They say they hard but they scared, we leave em dead 
So think about it before you shoot, number two led 
  
[Hook] 
  
[E.S.G.] 
I'm talking property and publishing, just try to get your own 
Help with the cars and clothes and jewelry, start off with a home 
We been blinded so long, by material things 
Charles Barkley of this rap shit, the Hall with no ring 
Every chief ain't a leader, every pawn ain't a king 
Every hoe ain't a queen, every squad ain't a team 
Every thought ain't a dream, every fiend ain't on the corner 
Blowing kush with my feet up, I'm the motherfucking owner nigga 
  
[Hook]