Triple Beam

And there's no moral to the story, read the lines in between. Because that's what happens when you balance life on a triple beam! When you balance life on a triple beam! I turn a gram to an eight ball, an eight to a brick. The violence in my life was a measuring stick. And there's no moral to the story, read the lines in between. Because that's what happens when you balance life on a triple beam! I used to dream about the end, and when it would come. Drug dealers die young at the end of a gun. Powders on the triple beam, girls around my neck. No money? Well, she could always pay with sex! Bikers tried to front me, 30 grand worth of shit. Knew that if I took it, I'd never get out of this. What the fuck am I doing with amphetamines? But that's what happens when you balance life on a triple beam! When you balance life on a triple beam! I turn a gram to an eight ball, an eight to a brick. The chaos in my life was a measuring stick. And there's no moral to the story, read the lines in between. Because that's what happens when you balance life on a triple beam! My dealer trusted nobody, make you take a test. See if you would rat him out, or stab him in the chest. He'd make you suck the Glass-Dick, called it "dragon's breath". Smoke a giant hit of speed, prove you weren't the feds. Your heart would beat so fast before your eyes life flashed, ain't easy to make cash living off of meth. It's a paranoid world, violent and mean, but that's what happens when you balance life on a triple beam! When you balance life on a triple beam! I turn a gram to an eight ball, an eight to a brick. The party and the money, girls suckin' my dick. And there's no moral to the story, read the lines in between. Because that's what happens when you balance life on a triple beam! Paranoid, the gun is loaded, nose destroyed and mind corroded. Rival dealers want me broken, if I sleep it's with one eye open. They call it crank, speed, rosebud, methamphetamine. They call it crank, ice, bathtub, methamphetamine. At the AM/PM Shattuck and 51st, 1:30 in the morning, streets at their worst. My buddy started a fight, some dude by the pumps. These black girls strolled up to watch 'em take their lumps. Three cars rolled up, 15 dudes rolled out "You fuckin' with our girls?", mouth running like a spout. I threw the first punch, nose broke on my rings. Now I'm fighting 4 dudes, and my heads starting to ring. Somebody screamed "Stop, he's got a knife, run!" Not everybody listened, all of us were drunk. As I turned my head I saw my friend's knife blade. Murder in his eyes, the Devil in his veins! He swung at the first, but then he missed. 2nd one got lucky, 3rd one took a hit. The 4th got caught, and this time he wasn't missing. Teeth grit down, survival of the fittest. And he stabbed him, and he stabbed him, and he stabbed him again! Kill that motherfucker, let him never breathe again! And there's no moral to the story, read the lines in between. Because that's what happens when you balance life on a triple beam! When you balance life on a triple beam! When you balance life! I turn a gram to an eight ball, an eight to a brick. The violence and the bloodshed is making me sick. And there's no moral to the story, read the lines in between. Because that's what happens when you balance life on a triple beam! When you balance life on a triple beam!