Rick Ross - Triple Beam Dreams Ft Nas | Текст песни

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• Rick Ross
• Triple Beam Dreams Ft Nas

[Intro]

Its time to take it to the other side

The side you gotta watch A&E cable television for homie

But we live this shit

I’m not a star

But thats a lie

I’ve seen a man raise his hand on the stand he testify

Spoke on a homocide

AMongst other things

Even shared my triple beam dreams

[Nas]

A project minded individual criminal tactics

Us blacks kids born with birth defects, we hyperactive

Mentally sex-crazed dysfunctional they describe us

They liars, the end of the day, we fucking survivors

I remember watching Scarface the first time

Look at that big house, that Porsche paid for by crime

How could I sell this poison to peoples in my mind

They dumb to destroy themselves is how I rationalise

In a bastardised nation, Magnum 4.5 carrying

Where I’m from, aint far from Washington Heights the cop Aryan

A rookie boy the cookie didn’t make no profit

A stranger to the block I damn near had to make them cop it

It only took a fiend to taste it once to say it’s garbage

I brought it back to poppy, aint tryna take no losses

He focuses on my emotionless young dealer face then pauses

He gives me powder he has faith in Nases

Ambition’s to distribute coke

Had additions to gold chains, Mercedes Benz hopes

But I’m again broke

This shit aint cut for me, other dealers they up their orders

Barely at 62′s they already up they quotas

They out there everyday, some true hustlas for ya

I’m at it halfway, none of my customers are loyal

Picturin’ piping out the seats of a Pathfinder

Powerful pursuit for pussy cash, the flash diamonds

My junior high school class, wish I stayed there

Illegal entreprenuer I got my grades there

Blaming society, man it wasn’t made fair

I would be Ivy League if America played fair

Poor excuse and so I was

Throwin’ rocks at the pen just for the love

Evil the secret life of G’s

You seeing my blurry, triple beam dreams

[Rick Ross - Chorus]

Pocketful of money, parking lot full of them haters

Triple beam dreamin’, crib with 2 elevators

20 flat screens they got cameras every angle

Dope been coming so you know the income major

Rule number 1 I can’t do business with a stranger

Contract killers coming when I feel in danger

Early nineties reminscing when I had a pager

Triple Beam Dreams now Pat Riley my neighbour

[Rick Ross - Verse 2]

Fuck boy talking outta turn nigga

In a court room spraying like a germ nigga

25 on a line, them niggas dropping dimes

Cooperation got them red necks dropping time

Khaki suits and them niggas got to acting cute

We was all cool stacking them Acura coupes

More accurately we acted as if jackin’ was cool

Snatching niggas out they shoes then wear their jackets to school

Fuck boy you caught up in my dream

Countin’ cream on the cover of a magazine

I’m the Source, got the plug with the uncut

Jay-Z blue magic nigga, what! what!

Brand new S Class with a meal ticket

Nigga cocaine white as Tommy Hilfiger

Ralph Lauren Blue Label as I’m gettin’ high

Triple beam dreamin’ as the cream multiplys

Fuck boy talking outta turn nigga

‘Fore you sell dope there’s shit you gotta learn nigga

Home invasions, ducktape

Fornicating, counting money with a fuck face

Fucking bitches that be giving up your whereabouts

Slow leaks, gotta air ‘em out

Kill ‘em all, Rolls Royce Ghost nigga ball

Phantom drop head shit, I had to get ‘em all

Niggas hate but they know they never get involved

Food on my plate, fuck ‘em all like a

Triple beam dreams, the ghetto’s my reality

I’m from where ya hustle determines ya salary

6 figure family member, nigga forget about it


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