Artist: Rick Ross f/ Nas
Album:  God Forgives, I Don't
Song:   Triple Beam Dreams
Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash

[Intro]
It's time to take you to the other side
The side you gotta watch your A&E cable television for homey
But we live this shit
I'm not a star, well that's a lie
I seen a man raise his hand on the stand, he testified
Spoke on the homicides, amongst other things
Even shared my triple beam dreams

[Nas]
A project minded individual, criminal tactics
Us black kids born with birth defects, we hyperactive
Mentally sex-crazed, dysfunctional they describe us
They liars, the end of the day we're fuckin 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 bastardized nation, Magnum fo'-five
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 tryin 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 shit ain't cut for me, other dealers they up they orders
Barely at sixty-twos, 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 pussy, cash to flash diamonds
My junior high school class, 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 me blurry, triple beam dreams

[Chorus: Rick Ross]
Pocket full of money, parkin lot full of them haters
Triple beam dreamin, crib with two elevators
Twenty flat screens and got cameras every angle
Dope been comin so you know the income major
Rule #1 I can't do business with a stranger
Contract killers come in when I feel endangered
Early 90's reminiscin when I had a pager
Triple beam dreams, now Pat Riley my neighbor

[Rick Ross]
Fuck boy talkin out of turn nigga
In the court room spreadin like a germ nigga
Twenty-five on the line them niggaz droppig dimes
Co-operation got them rednecks droppin time
Khaki suits and some niggaz go to actin cute
We was all cool, stackin in Acura coupes
More accurately we acted as is if jackin was cool
Snatchin niggaz out they shoes then wear they 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 dream dreamin as the cream multiples
Fuck boy talkin out of turn nigga
'Fore you sell dope there's shit you gotta learn nigga
Home invasions, duct tape
Fornicatin, countin money with a fuck face
Fuckin bitches that be givin up your whereabouts
Slow leaks, gotta air 'em out
Kill 'em all, Rolls Royce Ghost nigg, ball
Phantom drop head, shit I had to get 'em all
Niggaz hate but they know they never get involved
Food on the plate, fuck '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? Nigga forget about it
Low income housing, nigga tryin to get up out it
I got a plan lil' nigga just believe in me
Triple beam dreamin with this thing in me {M-M-M-Maybach}

[Chorus]

[Outro]
{M-M-M-Maybach Music}