Cam'Ron

Cam'Ron - Triple Up lyrics

rate me

Dipset, Killa, Street's what it is

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

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

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

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

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