Triple Beams - Westside Gunn, Planet Asia, Apollo Brown

Ay yo…

Make sure the money machine still work…

Ay yo, remember nights in that cell

My cellie prayin' for the crack, lord

If the tape bust, I knock a stack off

Remix, now I made it twenty, clips so long it look fake

Shot your shit up with one pull-y

Viktor & Rolf over the vest, bitches think I’m lifting weights

Run a nigga jewels at the VMA’s

Trying to make everyday a payday

I came home, judge sent him right back for a decade

PRPS distressed, BAPE Reeboks

Floss lied to death, I ain’t trying to get what he got

Slaughtering cocaine under water snorkeling

My reflexes put the fork in it to fortune it

Fortune 500 niggas run it

Drag 'em from the Ghost like it’s nothing

Never been shot but I’ve seen niggas get their shit lit up

I’m like Rich Paul, but richer

Spent nights crying over triple beams…

(Ch-cha Chain, Ch-cha…)

Spent nights crying over triple beams…

(Let's count this mothafucking nigga…)

Spent nights crying over triple beams…

(The fuck I’m talking about guns… Word up, yo…)

Pyrex whipping pushing kicks contraband handling

We been hand to handin' since the hieroglyphs

Walkie talkie recievers, watching all the narcs cops

In the scope of my binoculars, we just trying to re-up

Black cell jackets we the boat niggas

La vida loc livin capo we’re the coke dealers

This is business nothing personal, nothing emo

Ambitions of niggas transitions to a kilo

First chapter, we were sending for them C-notes

Incognito moving D-dope

Crash dummies turn into torpedos

Tech 9's lick off sounding like a song from the Migos

Yank bitches, slot machines in Reno, the fish fry was Filipino

In the kitchen leaning, triple beamin latinos

A hundred band jooking out the jex flexing

Sixteen hundred off every zip effortless

Spent nights crying over triple beams…

Spent nights crying over triple beams…

Spent nights crying over triple beams…