[Produced by J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League]
[Intro: Rick Ross]
It's time to take you to the other side
The side you gotta watch your A&E cable television for homie
But we live this sh**
I'm not a star, well that's a lie
I seen a man raise his hand on the stand he testified
Spoke on a homicide amongst other things
Even share my triple beam dreams
[Verse 1: Nas]
A project minded individual, criminal tactics
Us black kids born with birth defects, we hyperactive
Mentally s**-crazed, dysfunctional they describe us
They liars, at the end of the day, we f**in 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 my peoples in my mind?
They dumb and destroy themselves is how I rationalize
In a ba*tardized nation, Magnum .45 carrying
Where I'm from ain't far from Washington Heights to 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 papi, ain't trying to take no losses
He focuses on my emotionless young dealer face then pauses
He gives me powder, he has faith in Nas' ambitions to distribute coke
Had addictions to gold chains, Mercedes Benz hopes, but I'm again broke
This sh** ain't cut for me, other dealers, they up their orders
Barely at 62s, they already up to quarters
They out there every day, some true hustlers for you
I'm at it half way, none of my customers are loyal
Picturing piping out the seats of a Pathfinder
Powerful pursuit for p**y, cash to flash diamonds
My junior high school cla**, wish I stayed there
Illegal entrepreneur, I got my grades there
Blaming society, mad, it wasn't made fair
I would be Ivy League if America played fair
Poor excuse, and so I was
Throwing rocks at the pen just for the love
Before the evil, the secret life of G's
You seeing my blurry, triple beam dreams
[Hook: Rick Ross]
Pocket full of money, parking lot full of them haters
Triple beam dreaming, crib with 2 elevators
20 flat screens and 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 k**ers coming when I feel endangered
Early 90s reminiscing when I had a pager
Triple beam dreams: now Pat Riley my neighbor
[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
f** boy talking out of turn n***a
In the court room, spreading like a germ n***a
25 on the line, them n***as dropping dimes
Whole operation got them rednecks dropping time
Khaki suits and some n***as go to acting cute
We was all cool, stacking in Acura coupes
More accurately, we acted as is if jacking was cool
Snatching n***as out they shoes then wear jackets to school
f** boy, you caught up in my dream
Counting cream on the cover of a magazine
I'm the source, got the plug with the uncut
Jay-Z Blue Magic n***a, what what
Brand new S Cla** with a meal ticket
n***a c**aine white as Tommy Hilfiger
Ralph Lauren Blue Label as I'm gettin high
Triple dream dreamin as the cream multiples
f** boy talkin out of turn n***a
'Fore you sell dope, it's sh** you gotta learn n***a
Home invasions, duct tape
Fornicating, counting money with a f** face
f**ing b**hes that be giving up your whereabouts
Slow leaks, gotta air em out
k** 'em all, Rolls Royce Ghost n***a, ball
Phantom drop head, sh** I had to get em all
n***as hate but they know they never get involved
Food on the plate, f** em all I could send my dog
Triple beam dreams, the ghetto's my reality
I'm from where your hustle determines your salary
Six figure family member, n***a forget about it
Low income housing, n***a trying to get up out it
I got a plan little n***a, just believe in me
Triple beam dreamin with this thing in me
[Hook]