Rick Ross - Maybach Music 2 (feat. T-Pain, Lil Wayne & Kanye West) | Текст песни

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• Rick Ross
• Maybach Music 2 (feat. T-Pain, Lil Wayne & Kanye West)

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Realist shit I ever wrote, chillin' in my Maybach

Whatever I send out, homie, I'ma make back

Can you believe that? Woah you gotta see it

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 Luetta King. Jr, startin'

All that stuntin' is gonna ruin ya

B I was a lie, he probably had a two tone

With the gray poupon, anything yay poupon

We'll explode 'cause I'm am the shit

And this is my commode, uh, oh, there they go

Talkin' about how ya, boy, clothes extra tight

I just remember 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 gettin' no sex tonight

And a lap dance will probably be a blessing right

So all the shit you talking dead, coffin, light the weed coughin'

New crib loughtin'

Where it's at, Austin? Where's that, Texas?

What's in front, Benzes? What else, Lexus?

Well, who's Maybach is this, Mr. Westses

Realist shit I ever wrote, chillin' in my Maybach

Whatever I send out, homie, I'ma make back

Can you believe that? Woah, you gotta see it

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, my light controlium, grim mean custodians

Shades or no shades, these made erotium

Use to be the oldsmo, hoes call it oh lo

Now I got so many horses bitches call me polo

5762, tell me how ya wanna move

Yeah, you know I got them both

Beat your ass black and blue

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

Sellin' reefer even Gregory, I'm on my dinner

So what the fuck is ya tellin' me other than your gender?

I'm a boss and I'm ridin' like a small fault

Niggas, make your wheels and ride till they fall off

Yeah, Ross

Realist shit I ever wrote, chillin' in my Maybach

Whatever I send out, homie, I'ma make back

Can you believe that? Woah, you gotta see it

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, alright

All black Maybach, I'm sittin' in the asshole

Classy as a mother still gutta like a bad bowl

Benjamin Franklin, no X in the cash row

That's right, the mills do like damn close

I eat ya mill too, we don't feel you

And we be strappin' up like the navy seal do

Sweet as banana split, every time I peel through

Fresher than Will Smith and uncle Phil too

Watchin' TV in the Maybach, in traffic

I'm on my feet like tough actin' tinactin'

I'm run in this shit, you should try tacklin'

Lil Wayne in one word immaculin'

You see the Big, you see the Jay

The Tupac in him, the Kurt Cobain

The Andre three stacks and then I'm back to doin' shit

Like I do say Maybach music

Realist shit I ever wrote, chillin' in my Maybach

Whatever I send out, homie, I'ma make back

Can you believe that? Woah, you gotta see it

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