Rick Ross, T-Pain, Lil Wayne, Kanye West - Maybach Music II lyrics

Hey! Realest shit I ever wrote
Chillin' in my Maybach
Whatever I send out, homie, I'ma make back
Can you believe that? Whoa ooh ooh
You gotta see it (Hey)
'Cause I don't plan on goin' broke
Put that on my Maybach
'Cause I'm in it to win now
Niggas can't take that
Listen to my Maybach music
To my Maybach music

Martin, Louie the King Jr
Startin' all that stuntin' is gon' ruin you
If BI was alive, he'd prob'ly have the 2-tone
With the Grey Poupon, anything 'Ye poop on
Will explode, 'cause I am the shit
And this is my commode uh oh, there they go
Talking 'bout how your boy's
Clothes extra tight
I just remembered that my
Limelight extra bright
I hit the strip club and girls get extra hype
You hit the strip club and
Girls turn extra dyke
We know who not getting no sex tonight
And a lap dance'd probably be a blessin'
Right?
So all the shit you talking dead, coffin
Like the weed, coughing, new crib, loft in
Where it's at? Austin, where is that? Texas
What's in front? Benzes, what else? Lexus
Well, who's Maybach is this? Mr west's!

Hey! Realest shit I ever wrote
Chillin' in my Maybach
Whatever I send out, homie, I'ma make back
Can you believe that? Whoa ooh ooh
You gotta see it (Hey)
'Cause I don't plan on goin' broke
Put that on my Maybach
'Cause I'm in it to win now
Niggas can't take that
Listen to my Maybach music
To my Maybach music

Boss!

Kush burn like petroleum
Crib needs custodians
Shades in all shades, these made of rhodium
Used to be the Oldsmo, hoes call it oh-lo
Now I got so many horses
Bitches call me Polo
57, 62, tell me how you wanna move
Yeah, you know I got them both
Beat your ass black and blue
(yeah) I was barely gettin' pretty women
Now I scoop Emmy winners like kitty litter
Any winter, Fendi denim like a slender nigga
Lookin' in the mirror
I can see the real contender
Celery for Eben Gregory, I'm on my dinner
So what the fuck is you telling
Me other than your gender?
I'm a boss, and I'm ridin' like a small Vogue
Niggas make your wheels and ride
'em 'til they fall off yeah! Ross!

Hey! Realest shit I ever wrote
Chillin' in my Maybach
Whatever I send out, homie, I'ma make back
Can you believe that? Whoa ooh ooh
You gotta see it (Hey)
'Cause I don't plan on goin' broke
Put that on my Maybach
'Cause I'm in it to win now
Niggas can't take that
Listen to my Maybach music
To my Maybach music

Well, all right! Hehehe

All-black Maybach, I'm sittin' in the asshole
Classy as a mother
Still gutter like a bad bowl
Benjamin Franklin on X how that cash roll
That's right, them mils do, like damp clothes
I eat your meal, too, we don't feel you
And we be strapping up like the Navy SEAL do
Sweet as banana-split every time
I peel through
Fresher than Will Smith and Uncle Phil too
Watching TV in the Maybach in traffic
I'm on my feet like Tough-Actin' Tinactin
I'm running this shit
You should try tackling
Lil Wayne in one word? Immaculate
You see the Biggie, see the Jay
The 2Pac in him
The Kurt Cobain, the Andre Three Stacks
And then I'm back to doin'
Shit like I do's it maybach Music!

Hey! Realest shit I ever wrote
Chillin' in my Maybach (yeah)
Whatever I send out, homie, I'ma make back
(Young Mula, baby)
Can you believe that? Whoa ooh ooh (Oww)
You gotta see it (Hey)
'Cause I don't plan on goin' broke
Put that on my Maybach
'Cause I'm in it to win now
Niggas can't take that
Listen to my Maybach music
To my Maybach music