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

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

(T-pain)
Realest shit I ever wrote,
Chillin in my Maybach
Whatever I send out homie Imma make back Ay,
Can you believe it (woah) you gotta see it.
I don’t plan on goin broke
Put that on my Maybach
Im in it to win now niggas can’t take that
Listen to my Maybach Music,
To my Maybach Music

(Kanye West)
Martin Luie the King Junior
Startin all that stuntin is gon ruin yuh
B I was a lie, he probly had a 2 tone
With the gray pup'on, anything Ye' poop on
Will explode, cuz I am the shit and
This is my commode, uh oh there they go
Talking bout how yuh boy clothes extra tight
I just remembered that my lime light extra bright
I hit the strip club and girls get extra hype
You hit the strip cub and girls turn extra dyke
We know who not getting no sex tonight
And a lap dance will probly be a blessin right?
So all that shit you talking dead, coffin,
Like the weed coughin, new crib Loftin
Where it’s at, Austin, where's that Texas,
What’s in front Benzes, what else Lexus,
Well whos Maybach is this, Mr. West’s

(T-pain)
Realest shit I ever wrote,
Chillin in my Maybach
Whatever I send out homie Imma make back Ay,
Can you believe it (woah) you gotta see it.
I don’t plan on goin broke
Put that on my Maybach
Im in it to win now niggas can’t take that
Listen to my Maybach Music,
To my Maybach Music

(Rick Ross)
Boss
Kush burn like petroleum, crib need custodians
Shades or no shades, bees made of rhodium
Used to be the O-Smoke hoes call it O-Lo
Now I got so many horses bitches call me Polo
Fifty seven, sixty two tell me how you wanna move
Ya you know I got them both, beat yuh ass black and blue
I was barely getting pretty women, now I scoup Emmy winners like kitty litter
Any winner fended in em like a slender nigga
Lookin in the mirror I can see the real contender
Celery for even Gregory im on my dinner
So what the fuck is yuh tellin me other than your gender
Im the boss and im ridin em like a small four
Niggas make yuh wheels and ride till they fall of
Yea, ROSS

(T-pain)
Realest shit I ever wrote,
Chillin in my Maybach
Whatever I send out homie Imma make back Ay,
Can you believe it (woah) you gotta see it.
I don’t plan on goin broke
Put that on my Maybach
Im in it to win now niggas can’t take that
Listen to my Maybach Music,
To my Maybach Music

(Weezy)
Well alright, haha
All Black, Maybach im sittin in the asshole
Classy as a Mutha, still gutta like a bad bowl
Benjamin Franklin, on Ex how dat cash roll
Dats right them Billz, due like damn clothes
I eatcha meal to, we dont feel you
ANd we be strappin up, Like the Navy SEALS do
Sweet as a banana split everytime I peel through
Fresher than Will Smith and Uncle Phil too
Watchin T.V. in the Maybach in traffic
I'm on my feet like Tough Actin' Tinactin
I'm runnin this shit, you should try tacklin
Lil Wayne in one word, Immaculate
You see the Biggie, See the Jada, 2 Pac, and him
The Curt Cobain, and Andre 3 stacks,
And then im back to doin shitt
Like i do sing Maybach Musik

(T-pain)
Realest shit I ever wrote,
Chillin in my Maybach
Whatever I send out homie Imma make back Ay,
Can you believe it (woah) you gotta see it.
I don’t plan on goin broke
Put that on my Maybach
Im in it to win now niggas can’t take that
Listen to my Maybach Music,
To my Maybach Music

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