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Rd3: Goat Song of 12: Daughters vs Triple Beam Dreams

Rd3: Goat Song of 12: Daughters vs Triple Beam Dreams


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Niggas tripping hard. Nas bodied this shit

A project minded individual, criminal tactics
Us black kids born with birth defects, we hyperactive
Mentally sex-crazed, dysfunctional, they describe us
They liars, at the end of the day, we're fuckin' survivors
I remember watchin' Scarface the first time
Look at that big house, that Porsche paid for by crime
How could I sell this poison to my peoples, in my mind?
They dumb and destroy themselves is how I rationalize
In the bastardized nation, Magnum .45 carryin'
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 near 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 tryna 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
Had 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 to quarters
They out there every day, some true hustlers for you
I'm at it half way, none of my customers are loyal
 
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