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Cam'ron » Triple Up
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Dipset, Killa, Street's what it is (Verse 1:) I done stopped and styled hummers, rock for wild summers The nerve in me, these courtesy of Crocodile Hunter (that's right) That mean the croke-adile, see ya'll niggaz chokin' now Know my style, you know I style, get money poster-child Crip, piece, I swear you should come over child Garage, Benz, Lambourgini, Rover fouls Red, blue, green like the average frog Don't be mad at dog, Ferrari out the catalogue Bracelet switched to Bangles, medallions shit just dangle Chain twist and tangle, you'll get ripped and mangled Hit from angels, I told you we equipped with angles Can't find you, your girl tape her wrists and ankles Show her the click clicker, better yet six figures Ask her where that nigga bitch, he a bitch nigga The big picture, get figures, my kicks glitter Get with her, in the basement longer than Big Tigger (Hook:) Triple up, trey eight, four nickel tucked Get some weight on your ass, give them nickels up This is for my fly ice niggaz Kilo breast, Chicken wing, fried rice niggaz Quadruple up, triple five on me you stupid fuck Take your ass up the block doggy the stoop is us This is for my Benjamin bitches You don't need 'em, get money credit scam bitches (Verse 2:) Ayo your clique is soft, my wrist is frost I just pick a Porsche, guns we strap 'em on, then we lick 'em off (pap pap pap pap) Got a sickenin' loft, you know how much the kitchen cost Your bitch and boss, get 'em crossed, best bet don't piss me off Listen horse a lot of niggaz I did endorse Or course makes me nauseous when they call the force Only force I call is the Holocaust Holla scholar, bodies drop when the dollars tossed (35 hundred) Hot stove, jelly jar, baking soda Hot water, mask, gloves, can't take the odor But I make the quota, hate cats that faking older Remember back in the days, man them days is over Know it might seem I'm sellin' ya'll a pipe dream Wolf tickets, nope been a legend since nineteen And that was in the late 1990's You late, homeboy I kept them 19's shiny Killa, easy (hook) (Verse 3: 40 Cal) I came a long way from getting hanged by a white jury Look at my neck, all you see hang white jewelry I triple the chain, triple the wrist Dice game the same night I through triples and split I get menage et tua, the triple the chicks Got 'em on a triple beam takin' trips with the bricks My clique, the weight watchers, we wait for niggaz with watches Or watch niggaz with weight with cake in they wallet Raping they pockets and taking they projects If you flip like T-Mobile I could make you a sidekick Shit you see a profit one day off of my flip You gotta go triple to say that it's my shit But for now get ya hustle up How you talk about triple when you still trying to double up This the bubble music, hoes with the bubble buck Bubble coke, and they bubble coke to cop that bubble truck (hook)
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