Patchwerk Recording Studio, Atlanta, GA - Maybach Music lyrics

[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