Cam'ron — Triple Up

[Intro: Cam'ron] Dipset, Killa, streets what it is [Verse 1: Cam'ron] I done stopped and styled Hummers, rock for wild summers The nerve in me, these courtesy of Crocodile Hunter, that's right That mean they croke-adile, see y'all niggas chokin now You know my style, you know I style, get money poster-child Crib, piece, I swear you should come over child Garage, Benz, Lamborghini, Rover fouls Red, blue, green like the average frog Don't be mad at dog, Ferrari out the catalogue Bracelet switched to bangles, medallion, shit just dangle Chain twist and tangle, you'll get ripped and mangled Hit from angles, I told you we equipped with angels 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 us, in the basement longer than Big Tigger [Chorus: Cam'ron] Triple up, trey eight, four nickel tucked Get some weight on your ass, give them nickels up This is for my fly ice niggas Kilo breast, chicken wing, fried rice niggas 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: Cam'ron] Killa, uh 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 You bitchin' boss, get 'em crossed, best bet don't piss me off Listen horse, a lot of niggas I did endorse Of 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, bakin' soda Hot water, mask, gloves, can't take the odor But I make the quota, hate cats that fakin' older "Remember back in the days", man them days is over Know it might seem I'm sellin' y'all a pipe dream Wolf tickets, nope, been a legend since 19 And that was in the late 1990's You late, homeboy I kept them 19's shiny, Killa, easy [Chorus: Cam'ron] Triple up, trey eight, four nickel tucked Get some weight on your ass, give them nickels up This is for my fly ice niggas Kilo breast, chicken wing, fried rice niggas 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 3: 40 Cal.] I came a long way from gettin' 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 throw triples and split I get ménage à trois, that's triple the chicks Got 'em on a triple beam, takin' trips with the bricks My clique, the weight watchers, we wait for niggas with watches Or watch niggas with weight with cake in they wallet Rapin' they pockets and takin' 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, just 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 butt Bubble coke, and they bubble coke to cop that bubble truck [Chorus: Cam'ron] Triple up, trey eight, four nickel tucked Get some weight on your ass, give them nickels up This is for my fly ice niggas Kilo breast, chicken wing, fried rice niggas 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