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letra de maybach music ii - rick ross

[chorus: t-pain]
hey! realest sh-t i ever wrote, chillin’ in my maybach
whatever i send out homie i’ma make back
can you believe that? whoa-ooh-ooh
you gotta see it (hey)
’cause i don’t plan on goin’ broke, put that on my maybach
’cause i’m in it to win now, n-ggas can’t take that
listen to my maybach music
to my maybach music

[verse 1: kanye west]
martin, louie the king jr
startin’ all that stuntin’ is gon’ ruin you
if b.i. was alive, he’d prob’ly have the 2-tone
with the grey poupon, anythin’ ‘ye p–p on
will explode cause i am the sh-t and this is my commode
uh-oh, there they go
talkin’ ’bout how your boy’s clothes extra tight
i just remembered that my limelight extra bright
i hit the strip club and girls get extra hype
you hit the strip club and girls turn extra dyk-
we know who not gettin’ no s-x tonight
and a lap dance’ll probably be a blessin’, right?
so all the sh-t you talkin’ dead, coffin
light the weed, coughin’, new crib, loft in
where it’s at? austin, where is that? texas
what’s in front? benzes, what else? lexus
well who’s maybach is this? mr. west’s

[chorus: t-pain]
hey! realest sh-t i ever wrote, chillin’ in my maybach
whatever i send out, homie i’ma make back
can you believe that? whoa-ooh-ooh
you gotta see it (hey)
’cause i don’t plan on goin’ broke, put that on my maybach
’cause i’m in it to win now, n-ggas can’t take that
listen to my maybach music
to my maybach music

[verse 2: rick ross]
boss!
kush burn like petroleum, crib needs custodians
shades in all shades, these made of rhodium
used to be the oldsmo, hoes call it oh-lo
now i got so many horses, b-tches call me polo
57, 62, tell me how you wanna move
yeah, you know i got them both, beat your -ss black and blue
i was barely gettin’ pretty women
now i scoop emmy winners like kitty litter
any winter, fendi denim like a slender n-gga
lookin’ in the mirror, i can see the real contender
celery for eben gregory, i’m on my dinner
so what the f-ck is ya tellin’ me other than your gender?
i’m a boss and i’m ridin’ like a small vogue
n-ggas make your wheels and ride ’em ’til they fall off
yeah, ross!

[verse 3: lil wayne]
well alright, heheh!
all black maybach, i’m sittin’ in the -ssh0l-
cl-ssy as a mother, still gutter like a bad bowl
benjamin franklin on x how that cash roll
that’s right, the mills do like damp clothes
i eat your meal too, we don’t feel you
and we be strappin’ up like the navy seal do
sweet as banana split everytime 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 runnin’ this sh-t, you should try tacklin’
lil wayne in one word, immaculate
you see the big, you see the jay, the 2pac in him
the kurt cobain, the andre three stacks
and then i’m back to doin’ sh-t like i do’s in maybach music
yeah, young mula baby! oww!

- rick ross

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