[Intro: Rick Ross]
What is this? Maybach music
I like this Maybach music
Sweet, haha
Come and take a ride
Come and take a ride
Billionaire, yayo, Justice League
[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
57 yes, yes, blood for a D-Boy
Hand my mack 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 figure there was a better route
Look at me, a model now, models and bottles 'round
A Blood holla', ballin'
But the boys in blue, shot 'em down
Gang-affiliated, colors prosecutors painted
Cause the n***as I employed, name synonymous with Yayo
Instrumentals that are mental, Maybach kind of mental
400 off the lot, the block is monumental
Some things 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 signs to fear
I'm higher than a lear jet
This Maybach music, designer sh** I wear
Make hoes lose it
Close your eyes and inhale the smoke
It's Maybach music, the realest sh** I wrote, n***a
By an ounce, take a toke
Of this Maybach music, the realest sh** I wrote, boss
[Verse 2: Jay-Z]
(Young, f** 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 b**h, so The Whole World Is Mine
The six-deuce long, the curtains are drawn
Perfectly like a Pica**o, Rembrandts and Rothkos
I'm a major player, 40-40's in Vegas at the Palazzo
They said it was not so
Certain things that 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
And the lear, closer to a Aaliyah
Say a Prayer, hope I get ta 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
Where refrigerators, where Ace of Spades, 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
You feel that? Young, c'mon
[Hook: Jay-Z]
Realest sh** 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 sh** 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
[Verse 3: Rick Ross]
(Boss, can't be stopped now
We got too much cake)
They pinchin' pennies, while I'm musclin' for mills
And tate 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, stantin' on my balcony
Can only stay a week or two, so many people out for me
I bulletproofed my Maybach, got a k**er's intuition
Holdin' on that mack 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 symbolize
The hustle for young k**ers 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, ma**age for frauds
I'm livin' large, my fat rocks
In the k**in' Field of hip-hop
Runnin' up on the car, you get popped, mopped and dropped
I'm the boss