[Rick Ross] 57, yes, yes, good for a D-Boy Hand my MAC-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 figured was a better route Look at me, a model now, models and them bottles ´round A Blood holla, "Ballin,´" but the boys in blue, they shot ´em down Gang-affiliated, colors prosecutors painted
Cause the niggas I employed name synonymous with mayhem Instrumentals that are mental, Maybach kind of mental 400 off the lot, the block is monumental (Boss) Some things your 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 sign to fear I´m higher than a lear, this Maybach music Designer shit I wear, make hoes lose it (Boss) Close your eyes and inhale the smoke It´s Maybach music, the realest shit I wrote, nigga By an ounce, take a toke Of this Maybach music, the realest shit I wrote Boss!
[Jay-Z] It´s Young! Hahahah, fuck it then
[Jay-Z] Black Maybach, white seats, black pipin´ Remind me of Paul McCartney and Mike fightin´ You know, "The Girl Is Mine" Life´s a bitch, so the whole world is mine The six-deuce long, the curtains are drawn Perfectly like a Picasso, Rembrandts and Rothkos I´m a major player, 4040´s in Vegas at the Palazzo They said it was not so Certain things 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 In the lear, closer to Aaliyah, say a prayer Hope I get to 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 Refrigerators, where Ace of Spades or 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
[Jay-Z] Hahahah, you feel that? Young, c´mon
[Jay-Z] Realest shit 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 shit 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
[Rick Ross] Boss, can´t be stopped now We got too much cake
[Rick Ross] They pinchin´ pennies, while I´m musclin´ for mills
And that 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, standin´ on my balcony Can only stay a week or two, so many people out for me I bulletproofed my Maybach, got a killer´s intuition Holdin´ on that MAC-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 symbolized The hustle for young killers 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 Massage for frauds, I´m livin´ large, my fat rocks It´s eat to kill in the field of hip-hop Runnin´ up on the car, you get popped, mopped and dropped I´m the boss