Rick Ross, JAY-Z - Maybach Music lyrics

Heh, what is this? (Maybach music)
I like this Maybach music (Sweet) Ha ha haha
Come and take a ride
Come and take a, come and take a ride

Billionaire, yayo (JUSTICE league)

57, yes, yes, good for a D-Boy
Hand my MAC-11 to the engineer to record
Got the baddest women in the world
For me to feed on
Double deck yacht, docked Boss
Blowin' weed up
Revenue incredible, it put me on a pedestal
Columbia to Mexico
I figured was a better route
Look at me, a model now
Models and them bottles 'round
A Blood holla, "Ballin, '" but
The boys in blue, they shot 'em down
Gang-affiliated, colors prosecutors painted


Cause the niggas I employed
Name synonymous with mayhem
Instrumentals that are mental
Maybach kind of mental
400 off the lot, the block is monumental
(Boss) some things your money can't buy
Like Heaven in the sky, even a better ride
In the rear, so many instruments I hear
Tucked behind curtain, no sign to fear
I'm higher than a lear, this Maybach music
Designer shit I wear, make hoes lose it
(Boss) close your eyes and inhale the smoke
It's Maybach music, the realest shit I wrote
Nigga by an ounce, take a toke
Of this Maybach music
The realest shit I wrote boss!

It's Young! Ha ha hah, fuck it then

Black Maybach, white seats, black pipin'
Remind me of Paul McCartney and Mike fightin'
You know, "The Girl Is Mine"
Life's a bitch, so the whole world is mine
The six-deuce long, the curtains are drawn
Perfectly like a Picasso
Rembrandts and Rothkos
I'm a major player, 40
40's in Vegas at the Palazzo
They said it was not so
Certain things your money can't buy
Like being this fly, 'til then
I'm just gon' ride
I'm like G Rap with better transportation
On the road to the riches
Reach my final destination
In the lear, closer to Aaliyah, say a prayer
Hope I get to see her when
I disappear from here, baby, yeah
But I don't see the endin'
Through these millionaire lenses
Just the two M's on the emblem
The partition roof, translucent and humidor
Refrigerators, where Ace of Spades
Or two I store
True story, my closet is like two stories
Straight to the happy endin'
Cause I don't do stories
Shawn Corey, real rap
The Maybach is bananas peel back

Ha ha hah, you feel that? Young, c'mon

Realest shit I ever wrote
Chillin' in my Maybach 8 track episodes
Been doin' this since way back
Since way back, since way back
8 track episodes
Been doin' this since way back
Realest shit I ever wrote
Chillin' in my Maybach 8 track episodes
Been doin' this since way back
Since way back, since way back
8 track episodes
Been doin' this since way back

Boss, can't be stopped now
We got too much cake

They pinchin' pennies
While I'm musclin' for mills
And that muscle be that muzzle
When I stuff it in your grill
Stuffed shells, thanks to crack
I crack crab and lobsters
Not all mobsters imposters, gotcha
Boy, I got a eagle view
Standin' on my balcony
Can only stay a week or two
So many people out for me
I bulletproofed the Maybach
Got a killer's intuition
Holdin' on that MAC-11, Makaveli premonition
Waitin' on my Suge Knight
One nation under God
Since I chose a thug's life
Guess I gotta play my part
Never will I die, my name symbolized
The hustle for young killers coming
From the other side
Some things your money can't buy
Like Heaven in the sky, even a better ride
I'm large, my black car
Menagin' black broads
Massage for frauds, I'm livin' large
My fat rocks
It's eat to kill in the field of hip-hop
Runnin' up on the car, you get popped
Mopped and dropped i'm the boss