Rick Ross

[fox69]

"Lay Back"
(feat. Robin Thicke)

"Lay Back"
(feat. Robin Thicke)



[Rick Ross]
Time is money (mula) Mind is funny (yes)
Trust me she lying if she denying she love me
Make up ya mind you been on and off (Ross)
Platinum petron come take shots with a boss

[Chorus: Robin Thicke]
If you came to get the party started girl just say lalalalalaaa
I want to put my hands all over your body girl come this way Nananananaaa
What you gon' do oo-oo, if I touch you if I put my lips on you oo-oo
If we took you back to the crib just me and you oo-oo
All night I want to play just say lalalalalaaa
Just take off your clothes and just lay back
All you gotta do is just lay back
Would you do this for me baby Just lay back, lay back (Boss) lalalalalaaa

[Rick Ross]
Girl I'm bright as a bezel, and you sexy as ever
Shorty what's on your brain, cause whatever is clever
Number one at whatever, I get bundles of cheddar
This that black cloud you deserve wonderful weather
run a few errands (Ross), summers in Paris
never shopping in clearance, don't make me embarrased
She never a bird, but baby my parrot
Her flavor superb, I pay her with carrots
My house is her home, I made her a palette
Maybe being too modest, my shit more like a palace
Follow the waterfalls, as it makes you wetter
Shawty brace yourself, it's only getting better

[Chorus: Robin Thicke]

[Rick Ross]
See shawty laid back, so we laid up
When I fade to black, we always made up
This shit ain't made up, look what I'm made of
Look what I made brah, don't owe no favors
Have 700s, first one to get it
My car's a virgin, first one to hit it
Hit the rim shop, get 'em to the hood
Stop by her momma house, that's if I'm feeling good
Now I need a fifth, time to hit the strip
I'ma hit the club, I'ma buy the VIP
We spending money, I'm talking slick
I hope she ride me, I'm talking stick

[Chorus: Robin Thicke]

[Rick Ross]
I'm too tipsy to drive, she so sexy tonight
Man ain't treating you right his bank account can't be in sight
Shawty you need a plus, you need a rush
No need to lie, baby you need to fuck

[Robin Thicke]
Came to get it started girl
Put my hands all over you girl
I touch you put my lips on you girl
Na na na na naaa

 

[fox69]

"Lay Up (Remix)"
(feat. Jay-Z & Trey Songz)

"Lay Up (Remix)"
(feat. Jay-Z & Trey Songz)



[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
She getting to know me
She liking me next
She kissing me slow
I'm biting her neck
Just catching the flow
I'm writing the next
She ready to blow
I'm referring to sex, Yes

[Interlude: Trey Songz]
Lay up, lay up
Lay up, lay up

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
Siting back with these paper falling in my lap
Feeling isolated nothing but them hundred stacks
When your money up tell me who you supposed to trust
Every night a different women fucking money up
My bank account in shape, I can run with Puff
I came to put you down shorty so what the fuck is up
Since I met her she can't keep that pussy off me
On a pill I'mma kill that pussy softly
Back to back tryna show you how gangster move
Keys to the pent, talking infinity pools
V12's ain't a thing tryna change her name
Papers stuffed in her purse can't hear her phone ring

[Hook: Trey Songz]
She know it’s gametime when I do it like that
When I pass it to her baby throw it right back
She can get the lay up, all night
She be tryna lay up, all right
And when I shoot I don’t miss (don’t miss), I don’t miss (don’t miss)
I don’t miss when I do it now
She could get the lay up, all night
She be tryna lay up, all right

[Verse 3: Jay-Z]
Hold up
The bigger the boat, the better the bitch
Not only boats baby girl I ships
A million copies since '96
Plus that nintey five south love I double dip, damn
Dope man I need a dope bitch
So I can divey up, all of this dope shit
I know Versace, know Givenchy, know Guiseppe
Emilio Pucci introduce you if you let me
I know Stella, Margiela, Marc Jacobs
Micheal Kors fuck 'em all, custom made stuff
I'm a made nigga, you a maid nigga
Get a way, getaway, get away nigga
Jumpin' off boats, hoppin' off another cliff
Every six months I think I need a new bucket list
To whom it applies
Who fuckin' with me
I'm the greatest alive
Love, I know you agree

[Hook]

[Verse 4: Rick Ross]
Getting money come natural stunt in my past time
Making love fucking like it's my last time
You know we fight and fuck, you know we fuck and fight
Ain't nothing perfect baby this is fucking life
Street battle tested, dreams manifested
When we was selling things nigga we was breaking records
Dom Pérignon running down my tatted arm
Other bitches hating on me and my baby born
Had her running with the low and shorty took the charge
Already out on bond, shit I would been scared
She did it like a chief while I was going hard
Now the world is yours, it's your time to ball

[Hook]

[Verse 5: Trey Songz]
From the night to the morn’, yeah she tryna lay
Got a freaky, freaky game and she tryna play
Couple more shots baby can you make it stay, stay up
Lay up, lay up
Might just slap the backboard, give you what you ask for
Lay up

 

[fox69]

"Live Fast, Die Young"
(feat. Kanye West)

"Live Fast, Die Young"
(feat. Kanye West)



[Sample]
(And I wanna show you how you all look like beautiful stars tonight)
(You've got to feel it)
(I've got the sign)

[Kanye West - Chorus]
They say we can't be livin' like this for the rest of our lives
Well, we gon' be livin' like this for the rest of tonight
And you know they gon' be bangin' this shit for rest of our lives
So live fast and die young, live fast and die young, live fast and die young

[Rick Ross - Verse 1]
Livin' fast now it's all linen rags (Unn)
Hard headed but my top peelin' back
Tinted glass on my '57, nigga wit' a attitude (Me)
Young and radical, methods are mathematical (Ha)
Let my convertible marinade on the avenue
Mommy that's half a million, I'm livin' la vida happy though
Die young but fuck it, we flew first class
Turned you to a rich bitch buy you first class
Up in this bitch and we lit up like a screen
Everytime we hit the charts niggas shoot up like a phene (Unn)
Stuntin' like we printin' money wit' machines
Which you see me wavin' Visorone Constantine (Unn)
Like Mike my spikes they all white
twenty fo' carat gold, baby carats worth of ice
Ice insured, fuck life insurance
I live for the moment and put a bullet on it (Boss)
Got the club rockin' like a fuckin' boat
I'm the pirate on this ship, all you mates got to go
The party over here, everybody over here
You know the word travel fast, everybody know we here (Yeah)
Bottles over here, even spread it over there
All the models over here but they swallow everywhere (Yeah)
She came to party like it's 1999
If she died on my dick
She would live through my rhymes

[Chorus]

[Kanye West - Verse 2]
For all my young ladies that's drivin' Miss Daisy
Drivin' me crazy, rock the beat baby!
Hop up out the rrrt, she beat up the payment
I don't give a rrrt, baby he craazzy
I'm back by unpopular demand, least he still poppin' in Japan
Shoppin' in Milan, hoppin' out the van
Screams from the fans
"Yeezy, always knew you'd be on top againnn"
And we 'bout to hit Jacob the jeweler
So I could be like Slick Rick and rule ya
Dr. Martin Louis the King Jr.
And I'ma never let the dream turn to Kruegers
My outfit's so disrespectful
You could gon' ahead and sneeze 'cause my presence blessed you
I mean, we walked in this bitch so stylish
Niggas done mistook me for my stylist
And I know it's superficial and ya say it's just clothes
But we shoppin' in that motherfucker and they just closed
So go ahead and just pose
When she walked up out the dressin' room
The store just froze
And I know, they trying to get their cool back
And them ghetto bitches hollin' "How you do that?" (Un)
So they could never say we never lived it
And if I see Biggie tonight I loved every minute

[Chorus]

[Rick Ross - Verse 3]
Peter piper pickin' peppers, Rick pitched poems
My leather long enough to keep a thick bitch warm
When her ass is enormous
Abs abnormal and tans in the morning on sands in California
Seems like we gettin' money for the wrong things
Look around Maseratis for the whole team
Look at Haiti, children dyin' 'round the clock nigga
I sent a hundred grand but that's a decent watch nigga
I'm gettin' better 'cause it would've leased the drop nigga
I'ma get my money right just watch nigga
She had a miscarriage I couldn't cry though
'Cause you and I know she was only my side hoe
(Un) I got 'em catchin' amnesia
Time to pull my fuckin' minks out the freezer
See the links and you just think Jesus
I'm hot till a day a day freezes
Young and radical, methods are mathematical
I multiplied my money through different avenues
Took many awards
Shook never before and for my mother I applaud
Ms. Afeni Shakur
Ice insured, fuck life insurance
Three bad bitches, dope come concurrent
Still, you know the dope won't stop
If I die today bury me in a dope ass watch

[Chorus]

[Sample]
(Hey, hey, hey, hey)
(Hey, hey, hey, hey)

 

[fox69]

"London (Skit)"

"London (Skit)"



London, England, January
The weather, gray
The rain, thick
I wake up, depression all around me
Dark thoughts clouding my mind
And I open the drawer and I see two things
I see the warm told loafers
I see the crisp Kashmir socks
And I know that today is me to be a good day
A hundred dollars a sock
Two ankles, you do the math
Pour them on,
Socks on the first, followed by the loafers
Then I know from that day, that week, that month, that year, that decade,
That millennium
That we'll be rich forever
Rich forever!

 

[fox69]

"Luxury Tax"
(feat. Lil Wayne, Trick Daddy, Young Jeezy)

"Luxury Tax"
(feat. Lil Wayne, Trick Daddy, Young Jeezy)



[Lil Wayne:]
I think we got a problem
Yeahh...

[Verse 1: Lil Wayne]
Big money in this bitch if you didn't knew.
Big business minus the business suit.
Even I look in the mirror like is it you,
And I say I must be the hottest if it isnt you.
Stay fresh from my top to my tennis shoes.
New coop, no top, big tennis shoes.
Never slipped, not even on the side of a swimming pool.
We don't get rid of Q,
We get rid of fools.
They said I couldn't play football I was too small.
They say I couldn't play basketball I wasn't tall.
They say I couldn't play baseball at all.
And now everyday of my life I ball.
And they say it ain't raining until someone assassinate,
And I feel like M.L.K.
Yeah... I have a dream to be your worst nightmare,
And now meet the boss of the cartel.

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
I'm a seven-nine satan, sitting on Lorenzzes.
And I seem really patient, picture the equation.
People taking pictures and they really getting fragrant.
Flags down my spaceship, sergeant searching for a fragrance.
Yayo, Yayo, he wanna sniff the yayo, flying saucer on the hasa
In the casa just to lay-low.
Make more (money man) that the model for the mob,
Need a blowjob my model, get a model for the job.
Go hard, no job, hustler, no prob, poster,
Nigga what finger f**k you whole squad.
Forty around spending doe, flipping for my?
Let you raid tax on them packs if you didn't know
Bought a new crib, niggas feeling like I hid.
3.2 but I just did it for the kids.
More guns than a pawn shop,
Got my whole arm rocked.
Keep the 760 double parked in the wrong spot.

Still huustling...
BOSSS

[Chorus: Lil Wayne]
Yeah... You gotta pay for this,
I remember when I used to pray for this.
This, this is classic,
So this shit you might never see again.
And we taxin, you don't want it nigga leave it then,
And we taxin, you don't want it nigga leave it then.
And we ain't trying to see the pen,
Like a needle in a hay stack we ain't trying to see the pen.
This is a luxury tax.

[Verse 3: Young Jeezy]
(I don't ask them baby I just tax em baby)
(Let's go)
Yeah imagine this,
No imagine that.
Gave me my sack like, goodluck getting back.
(Yeah...)
I'm like how the f**k I'm gonna get outta there.
And if I'm not careful,
Leave em the same place they find him there.
And I'm a winner if I make it cross the finshline,
Putting food on the table like it's dinner time.
And this is what you call sterotyping about?
Can you tell me my your dog keep sniffing my car?
Huh? Got the audacity to call me a liar.
So what you got in your trunk?
Oh, just a spare tire.
You niggas talked blow,
While I sold mine.
Like a bad crape, it's locking up in no time.
More time in the kitchen then I spent in the studio,
Gangsters paradise and I ain't talking about Coolio.
> Can't lie, still addicted to the odour
Got a ice cold Pepsi,
But still thinking Coke-Cola.

Hahaha...

[Chorus: Lil Wayne]

[Verse 4: Trick Daddy]
I'm up early in the morning, and I'm dressed in black.
Hold on, every morning I get dressed in black.
While your half ass looking at my pants sagging,
I'm getting money, and my swaging and black flagging.
Million dollor status, fully automatic.
Heavy on the henny and even harder on the women.
If it wasn't for reverend,
I probably would pimpin and shit.
Pops, my papai, has already hear me.
Tied trapping, shit sent me to prison,
Got mad and went to savage so homocide came to visit.
I smell gun powder,
So you got one hour to come up with every damn dollar,
Or your dun-dolla.
It cost a ball dogg,
Especially when the players on your team,
Consider you as the ball hog.
You treat me like Shaq,
And you Kobe but I didn't say you owe me nigga.
But act like you know me nigga.

 

[fox69]

"Made Men"
(feat. Drake)

"Made Men"
(feat. Drake)



[Rick Ross]
Two door Bugatti coupe
I call it Katy Perry
Wiz Khalifa papers
Smoking my favorite berry's
F65 I call it Rihanna
It got a red top but it's white like Madonna
Made man, you hear what I said
Having a slumber party all my bitches counting bread
Made man, also known as Papi Chulo
And I'm running straight up in the culo
My wrist always on frio, call me chilly chill
Super head and super head, and I really will
Californication, Motivation in my pocket
Got on my blue Dickie, shout out my nigga Roccett
Still smoking sickie, it ain't no other option
Not for made niggas and I'm never stopping
I raised the bar, I set the standards
My yayo, Usher Raymond, that bitch just keep on dancing

Dollar bills on top of dollar bills
That's all I'm throwing, if she wont her momma will
Made niggas, talking a lot of skrill
8 digits a nigga tryna live

Made man, you hear what I said
I got a hundred squares
If you scared, called the feds
Made men, I'm screaming dollar bills
Park the trunk on the Porsche
There they go, Dollar bills

[Drake]
Riding round the city, plastic cup of Henny
Find a nigga like me, truth to be told, I don't know many
I say shout my driver Lauren, that's 62 with curtains
Cant see shit, I don't know where the fuck I'm at for certain
When it boils down, I'm just a T.O nigga
But bitches tell me that I look just like a creole nigga
New Orleans know it's love, everytime I'm in town
Shout out my nigga 'Tez, thats my brother my round
Spending tomorrows money, I call it manana
Off the rack just aint my style, I call it designer
One of my baddest women ever, I call her Rihanna
But that's cause her name is Rihanna!
I'm in the condo just posting watching Miami kill
I might just walk to the arena and watch it for real
Ashes to ashes, me, Rozay and Khaled
Smoking bull riders, shit moving slow as a ballad
Tattoo on your ass, it'd be nice if you show me
I'm buying bitches furs, Mike Tyson, Naomi
I've got the right to do it, it's only right to do it
Love me some head, and I love a woman that likes to do it
Still love my team, ain't no other option
Not for made niggas and I'm never stopping
I'm Damon Wayans, just know that homie don't play that
You know we running my nigga, Young money, Maybach

[Chorus]

[Rick Ross]
Black panorama, I call it T-Pain
I got my autotune, that bitch insane
Got my revolver too, I call it Ving Rhames
You still a baby boy, we doing big things
Street niggas, you hear what I said
I got some bad news, Jabar back in the feds
Facing twenty, he just did a dime
Been out a year, look like he finna ride
Genocide, these people killing time
Throw you in a hole, you must be penalised
Soon as you see success, haters reinvest
Miami guns drive, half a million nothing less
Raised the bar, I set the standards
My yayo Mc Hammer, that bitch just keep on dancing
Michael Jackson, let it moonwalk
Set it on the napkin, let it cool off

[Chorus]

 

[fox69]

"Mafia Music"

"Mafia Music"



I got a feelin nigga wit it ? and my money be da root.
Look up at da stars, she like "Honey where da roof?"
Pull up in a Dawes ?, canaries ? dey go on roof,
Even once had a job pourin tar up on da roof.
Dat boy had it hard, no facade it's da truth,
So now when I menage and get massaged it's da proof.
Proof's in da pudding and dat bakin soda taken,
Paper dat I'm makin, gotta take dem photos naked.
Listenin to niggas like whistlin dat Wendy Williams,
I flip my middle finga, I'm chillin on twenty million.
Da rumors turn me on I'm masterbatin at da top,
These hoes so excited so dey catchin every drop.
I'm dodgin debacles like pot holes in Jamaica,
We cut down the weed, bury the paper on dem acres.
Martin had a dream, Bob got high,
I still do both but somehow I got by.

Preflo prayed, Mike Vick payed,
Bobby Brown strayed, Whitney lost weight.
Kimbo Slice on da pad when I write,
Dat may why the money lookin funny in the light.
But who really cares? You just throw it in the air,
Celebratin wealth, pourin Mo«t in her hair-
Excuse me, her weeve- the bluest of weed,
Trunk full of white, car smell like bleu cheese.
Dat boy get salad ?, beef bout movements,
BM dubs on dem big thangs lookin foolish.
Shawty sittin low, big thangs poppin,
Tip on da glock from a trip up in Compton.
Shootin at da cops- fuck one time.
I gave her to da block, I fucked one time.
We boys in da hood and nigga you Lil' Trey,
Suppress ya appetite, we takin ya lil' tray.
Love my handgun but my choppa still da shit,
Banned in 1994 but I'm too legit to quit.
1996, kilos was the shit,
But dat were better den roofin dat shit be bad for ya skin.
Niggas was ruthless, lord knows dat I sinned,
But I thought about my future and the loops I could pin.
Walked out on a gig and I turned to da streets,
Kept my name low key, I ain't heard from in weeks.
I came up with a strategy to come up mathematically,
I did it for da city but now everybody mad at me.
Mothafuck em all, they sweat from my balls,
If I drop anotha album I did dat fo my dawgs.
10 Maybachs, everybody ridin big,
I just sit back like: Look what I did.
Den I bow my head and beg for forgiveness,
Once I said my prayer, everybody back to business.

Smokin on a blunt in my own restaurant,
People lookin from a distance think I'm Big Daddy Kunk,
Reincarnated, spirit of a G.
Beef? I'll make you dinner, take a seat so we could eat.
A Farrakhan aura, paws on the Port,
You eat from da bowl while ya dog need a fork.
Niggas ain't loyal, snakes slithered in dey coil,
I'm laughin at you cuz, kill you niggas when I'm bored.

We steppin on ya crew til the mothafuckas crushed,
And makin sweet love to every women dat ya lust.
I love to pay her bills, can't wait to pay her rent,
Curtis Jackson baby mama ain't askin for a cent.
Burn the house down, we gotta buy another,
Don't forget the gas can, jealous, stupid muthafucka.
To anotha chapter, paper dat I captured,
Caught up in da rapture of gunshots and laughter.
Homicide is human and nigga you lookin funny,
Women love to stare cause dey know dey see da money.
I open up a mind by openin bank accounts,
Deposit a 100 stacks, break up or take it out.
Baby dats a gift, maybe you could live,
I knew it wouldn't work, but I just like to give.
Used to run da street- young nigga, bare feet,
Now I'm in da suites and I'm eatin crab meats.
Ice so right, otha rappers envy,
Dey callin all my jewelers up askin wat he spendin.
Thinkin bout Boss, not thinkin bout dem,
This a letter to my enemies, one I won't send.

 

[fox69]

"Mafia Music III"
(feat. Sizzla & Mavado)

"Mafia Music III"
(feat. Sizzla & Mavado)



[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
My corner so polluted, young niggas looting
I studied Kenneth Williams, I'm one hell of a student
Remarkable hustle, my niggas coming home
I kept the candle lit, my nigga never rowed
Niggas caught him slipping, gave him a shit bag
Five shots to the stomach, 2Pac gift pack
It's death row, conspiracy theories
Concealed indictments handed to the grand jury
Get some money now, you hated by your own kind
The home invasion done by niggas in your bloodline
GABOS, game ain’t based on sympathy
So he put a hit on his cousin in 18th
A sweet potato pie, oh me, oh my
Showing no remorse watching the others cry
Heroin sales, detectives'll sell
A lot of yellow tape, where that Obama care?
This the mob, bitch, silk underwear
Yeezy concerts, Kim Instagrams
Niggas hating, though they studied my moves
I'm like Farrakhan, in view of hundreds of Jews
Two attempts on my life, they threatened venues
Can't you see what I am? The hustle continue
I bought more jewels, I ordered the Wraith
I got a new style of shoes, match the watch in the face
Bill Belichick, coaching and calling the shots
Throw a yellow flag, pussy nigga body drops
Then we celebrate, black bottles pop
Time to elevate, we re-open shop
Wale a genius, Meek Mill a superstar
My new crib in Phoenix, ten car garage
Patek Philippe, platinum Audemars
Ain't no tags needed, nigga, I own them cars
I know them bitches, we met them broads
Never loved one, fucked them all
I'm a fucking dog, Ricky fucking Ross
Nigga, Birkin bags just for my runner-ups
But my main bitch she get the main dish
Not the old range, that was a lame bitch
Brazilian weave, she say I came quick
I let her see a hundred ki's, a gift from St. Nick
Moving bricks like it's Black Friday
She gotta fuck me or call me a fat crybaby
Looking over my shoulder, I can't trust a soul
Bought a spot in Anguilla just for me and my ho
Glock .40, even when I shower
Chrome .22 in my swimming towel
Mob ties and I pray the music set me free
May the powers that be better let me be

[Hook: Mavado]
Ya better not be around when the sun goes down
And the real, real killers them out for ya
It's gonna be be a bloodshed
One buss, one dead, it's gonna be a bloodshed
Gun- gunshot inna head

[Verse 2: Mavado]
Payback is a motherfucker
Yes I feel it when I squeeze the trigger
I feel the air when my enemies die
I feel the strength of ten killer
What is to be will be
Only God alone can kill me
‘Cause these fucking streets filthy
And I ain't fucking guilty

Can't stand to take no chance from no guy, know why?
Violent gangster and bullets fly, one guy
Guns go off, or so we say
Murder, action, anywhere
[x2]

[Hook: Mavado]

[Outro: Mavado]
[?], out the doors them screaming
The entire country [?], you don't know the meaning
[?], I must be dreaming
[?], and we know we got a demon

 

[fox69]

"Magnificent"
(feat. John Legend)

"Magnificent"
(feat. John Legend)



J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League [echoes]
[Rick Ross:]
It's Da Boss.
It gets no better than this...

Maybach Music!

[Chorus - John Legend:]
Swimmin' in women, champagne sippin',
Gold Emblem with 2 M's in it, this living is so magnificent, stop dreaming it, I'm living it
(Oh I), I can show you, show you better that I can tell you, I can show you, Oh I

[Verse 1 - Rick Ross:]
I'm tha magnificient with tha sensational style, far from bein' shallow cause she caught me wit a smile,
try to figure out my style, baby that will take a minute but if all we got is time,
you can't be actin' timid, so we back to playin tennis, we been goin' back and forth,
she the one that I adore, so I tried it in aurar,
conscience intervened concentrating on my cream, I'm tha king, make a move, pawns all tha way to queens,
I'm a don, I'm a boss, I'm a profit, I'm a g, I'm a CEO which means that I profit off of me (Yea!).
All white T's still rockin' my Nike Airs, fresh outta flight school, cause I'm fly right? (Yea!)
Ain't nothin free, I'm chargin'to breathe air, if it's not a Maybach, really who da hell cares?
My money long, my nigga my money strong, if you ain't gettin' money dat mean you done somethin' wrong (Boss!)

[Chorus]

[Verse 2 - Rick Ross:]
I'm tha magnificient with tha sensational style,
down to all of my automobiles wit no miles, yellow corvettes, black rally stripes, and I never phone ahead,
all she do is hear the pipes, project bitches, upscale kittens, fuck her for a minute then now we countin' digits,
Maybach money so I always had a vision, I would always tell ma niggas but... ain't nobody listened.
Words work magic, haters wreak havoc, there ain't nothin'on my back but the delicates of fabrics.
I made a transition from the thieves, to the biggest executive Def Jam's ever seen.
Only yours dream, Sean John suit and a S. Dot ring, Sean Don for my crew, bad hoes in pursuit,
Masspike on a two, Gunplay he a glue goon wit a attitude (Holla!)

[Chorus]

[Verse 3 - Rick Ross:]
I'm tha magnificient with tha sensational style, when I decorate a home, marble flooring like Da Nile,
nigga you a clown, here's the number you should dial, ye start wit 305 but we end at 4 pounds.
Stop at ... old pound, for life is a ??, all them Carol City killers, feel liking you broke down,
money is a must tommy guns on a bus, Allan Zamren on the case, so you know what you can suck,
wear red all the time but really I'm colour blind, wanna catch my attention nigga, throw up a dollar sign.
One time for tha Crips, young g's buyin cribs and I smoke wit Vice Lords when I visit Mississip.
The game never change, money still a focal, but its time to rape tha game like Puffy did Total,
like Rev Run in the tub still smokin', in memory of Shakir, Boss gotta shout Oakland!

[Chorus]

 

[fox69]

"Maybach Music"
(feat. Jay-Z)

"Maybach Music"
(feat. Jay-Z)



[Girl One (Girl Two)]
What is this? (Maybach music)
I like this Maybach music

[Both Girls]
Sweeeeeeeeeeet!
Ha-ha-ha!

[Sample]
Come and take a ride
Come and take a ride

[Rick Ross]
Billionaire
Yayo
JUSTICE LEAGUE

[Rick Ross]
57 years, 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, blowing weed up
Revenue incredible, it put me on a pedestal
Columbia to Mexico, I figure there was a better rule
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 niggas I employed, name synonymous with Mi-Yayo
Instrumental 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 (ROSS!)
I'm higher than a leer / Aaliyah
This Maybach music, designer shit I wear
May cause you to lose it
Close your eyes and inhale the smoke
It's Maybach music, the realest shit I wrote, nigga!
5 ounces, take a toke
Of this Maybach music, the realest shit I wrote
BOSS!

[Jay-Z]
YOUNG!
F**k it then!

[Jay-Z]
Black Maybach, white seas, black piping
Remind me of Paul McCartney and Mike fighting
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 Rocco's
I'm a major player, 40-40's in Vegas at the Palazzo
They said it was not so
Certain things that money can't buy
Like being this fly
'Til then, I'm just gonna' ride!
I'm like G-Rap with better transportation
On the road to the riches, reach my (Final Destination)
And the lair, closer to a leer / Aaliyah
Say a Prayer, hope I get ta' see her
When I disappear from here - baby, yeah!
But I don't see the ending through these millionaire lenses
Just the Two M's on the emblem
The partition roof, translucent and Humador
Where refrigerators, where Ace of Spades - two I store!
True story, my closet is like two stories
Cut to the happy ending, 'cause I don't do stories
Shawn Corey, real rap
The Maybach is bananas, peel back!
You feel that?
YOUNG! C'mon!

[Jay-Z]
Realest shit I ever wrote, chillin' in my Maybach
8-track episodes, been doing this since way back
Since way back, since way back
8-track episodes, been doing this since way back!
Realest shit I ever wrote, chillin' in my Maybach
8-track episodes, been doing this since way back
Since way back, since way back
8-track episodes, been doing this since way back!

[Rick Ross]
BOSS!
Can't be stopped now
We got too much cake

[Rick Ross]
They pinching pennies, while I'm muscling for meals
And the 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 - got cha!
Boy, I got an eagle view, slanted on my balcony
Can only stay a week or two, so many people out for me
I bulletproofed the Maybach
Got a killer's intuition
Holding on that mack 11, Makaveli premonition
Waiting 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 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, sellin' fat rocks
In the Killin' Field of hip-hop
Runnin' up on the car, you get popped, mopped and dropped!
I'm The Boss!