Music Box Studios, Atlanta, GA - Triple Beam Dreams lyrics

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Music Box Studios, Atlanta, GA - Triple Beam Dreams lyrics

[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 watchin' 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 carryin' 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 tryna 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 Picturin' pipin' 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 Blamin' society, mad, 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 Before the evil, the secret life of G's You seein' my blurry, triple beam dreams [Hook: Rick Ross] Pocket full of money, parkin' lot full of them haters Triple beam dreamin', crib with 2 elevators 20 flat screens and got cameras every angle Dope been comin' so you know the income major Rule number 1: I can't do business with a stranger Contract k**ers comin' when I feel endangered Early 90s reminiscin' when I had a pager Triple beam dreams: now Pat Riley my neighbor [Verse 2: Rick Ross] f** boy talkin' out of turn n***a In the court room, spreadin' like a germ n***a 25 on the line, them n***as droppin' dimes Whole operation got them rednecks droppin' time Khaki suits and some n***as go to actin' cute We was all cool, stackin' in Acura coupes More accurately, we acted as is if jackin' was cool Snatchin' n***as out they shoes then wear jackets to school f** 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 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 Fornicatin', countin' money with a f** face f**in' b**hes that be givin' 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 housin', n***a tryna get up out it I got a plan little n***a, just believe in me Triple beam dreamin' with this thing in me [Hook: Rick Ross] Pocket full of money, parkin' lot full of them haters Triple beam dreamin', crib with 2 elevators 20 flat screens and got cameras every angle Dope been comin' so you know the income major Rule number 1: I can't do business with a stranger Contract k**ers comin' when I feel endangered Early 90s reminiscin' when I had a pager Triple beam dreams: now Pat Riley my neighbor