Fix You Face

[E.S.G.:]

Now niggaz hate this, I make 'em freeze up like the Matrix

When they see the bravas kit, on the grey six

Double O, two triple O I'ma wreck

Just turned 26, the youngest rap game vet

Platinum chain on my neck, baguettes Rolexes

Been in niggaz tape decks, since the Oilers left Texas

Drive my wide body reckless, competition left dead

Mirror free silence issue boys, which gets bread fed

Clarion behind my head, he'll be in like Jed

I ain't scared to hit that I-10, make me some bread

FED's wanna take my big heads, have you heard of that

Put my raps over track, they call it verbal crack

Lyrical attack on a 8-dat, placks and pieces

Mind moving thesis, teloconesis

Crucified like Jesus, I'ma smile at them tricks

Frowned up, like the smell of piles of shit

[Hook:]

So fix your face motherfucker, get that boot out your mouth

Fuck with a nigga out the South, get your ass knocked out

And on the West coast, it's still D-R-E

But in this Dirty 3rd, it's D-Reck and E.S.G.

So fix your face motherfucker, get that boot out your mouth

Fuck with a nigga out the South, get your ass knocked out

And on the East coast, it's Nas and Jay-Z

But in this Dirty 3rd nigga, it's D-Reck and E.S.G.

[D-Reck:]

Bow down now, or you can bow down later

Dedication plus patience, made the game greater

Niggaz hate, to see big paper unfold

We balling out of control, young niggaz realizing the goals

Where were you, when the dope was sold

Dope was grow, I got it from Jesus was from the Dario

A nigga was moving, in bushels and barrels

Distributing all points, from hundred pounds to dime sales

Now me and E, are tight like TNT

Ready to ignite, and blow the industry

We represent, these Southside streets

These Southside beats, and like the whether bring Southside heat

He ain't 2Pac, and I ain't Suge

We ain't Puff and Big, we grip grain and work wood

Down South riders, money and power we fighters

The city's under siege, there'll be no survivors

[Hook:]

[E.S.G.:]

A Dirty 3rd Southsider, Wreckshop rider

Turning heads blue or red, my silver look lighter

Nigga fuck an appetizer, we the main course

Got Double XL mad, you saw our name in the Source

Nigga Queens to Cali, Wreckshop gon reign

Once these major labels, hear our god damn names

Trigga aim when I swang, I hog the lane

Like a dog off the chain, jaws locked on this game

Two dopeheaded caine, with a trunk full of bang

No tints just vents, watch the Sprint phone ring

There's a lick of cocaine, that's a out of town thang

Keeping frowning at my click, I'ma hit you with this thang

Nigga must be insane, trying to hate on my firm

Y'all niggaz had your chance, it's Wreckshop turn

Watch a hot glock burn, when I make that bitch hiccup

Nappy nut niggaz, fix your fucking lip up

[Hook x2]