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[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 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 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 sex-crazed, dysfunctional they describe us They liars, the end of the day, we fuckin 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 people's in my mind? They dumb and destroy themselves is how I rationalize In a bastardized 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 her 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 SongtexteHad addictions to gold chains, Mercedes Benz hopes, but I'm again broke This shit ain't cut for me, other dealers, they up their orders Barely at 62s, they already up the quotas Y'all out there every day, 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 pussy, cash to flash diamonds My junior high school class, 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 killers coming when I feel in danger Early 90s reminiscing when I had a pager Triple beam dreams: now Pat Riley my neighbor [Verse 2: Rick Ross] Fuck boy talking out of turn nigga In the court room, spreading like a germ nigga 25 on the line, them niggas dropping dimes Whole operation got them rednecks dropping time Khaki suits and some niggas go to acting cute We was all cool, stacking in Acura coupes More accurately, we acted as is if jacking was cool Snatching niggas out they shoes then wear 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 deam dreamin as the cream multiples Fuck boy talkin out of turn nigga 'Fore you sell dope, it's shit you gotta learn nigga Home invasions, duct tape 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 the plate, fuck em all like a [?] 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 trying to get up out it I got a plan little nigga, just believe in me Triple beam dreamin with this thing in me [Hook] Aus Songtexte Mania