Rick Ross

Rick Ross - Maybach Music III songtekst

Je score:

(feat. T.I., Jadakiss, Erykah Badu)




"J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League"



[T.I.]

My garage is flawless, under a hundred thou' ain't allowed

Maybach triple white like I'm riding in a cloud

No denim on my seats, baby you gon' need a towel

Ride sexy through the city, see me you will be aroused

My bankroll so well endowed, pull bitches from M-I-A to A-T-L in style

And in crowds catch me in town, on the strip in Vegas

chilling, filling bitches' faces with babies

Bitch bite your tongue, this just ain't a Mercedes

Tell the A.T.F. I'm riding with another .380

That's my car cost, y'all thought I would fall off

That was just a small loss, we can have a ball off

Fly to N.Y., meet me at the Waldorf

The story and architecture Victorian

Riding in the past like you're driving a DeLorean

Hard times, never heard of those in the 'Bach

My feet kicked up, get my dick sucked with the curtains closed

And for the record kid, my final question is

how your bitch gon' feel in that when you two pull up next to this?

Hahahahah, Maybach Music nigga!



[Chorus: Erykah Badu]

Everybody knows how the story goes

Money and clothes, they gon' come and go

But guess who stays the same? You gon' see the name

Stroll real slow, with the curtains drawn



[Jadakiss]

Yo, piff that I'm blowing on is fucking up the ozone

Plus I keep a dope line similar to Cold Stone's

Ice cream, pipe dreams

is what they have when I pull up in that light thing

I put a hurting on, I got the curtains drawn

Whoever ain't getting shitted on, I'm squirting on

I'm in the six-deuce, fifty-sevens for the health

Chopper in the trunk, .45 for the belt

Bunch of wax dummies, all you guys gonna melt

Live for your kids, die for yourself

Bottles in the sky if you ride for the wealth

Peas on the block, pies on the shelf

If I ain't in the back of the 'Bach, I ain't in nothing else

Haha, I'm something else



[Chorus: Erykah Badu]

Everybody knows how the story goes

Money and clothes, they gon' come and go

But guess who stays the same? You gon' see the name

Stroll real slow...



[Rick Ross]

Uh, cigar please

I came alive like a moth in the summer time

Japanese wheel blades all samurai

Shine brighter than them bitches on the other side

Time to make a blind motherfucker recognize

Ammunition got the competition nonexistent

Had to bubble crack but didn't have a pot to piss it

I'll double that, how dare you try to knock a nigga?

Street scholar, graduated no father figure

Still tote chrome, check my chromosomes

Meet me halfway with things and a mobile home

Money machines, yeah they RING like a mobile phone

I'm a seven-up, I need a coca-cola loan

I'm in the hood like I'm James Evans

Cashmere hand-made sweater

Me and money got a vendetta

Looking back, to tell the truth I could've did betta

Parents never had a good job

Now it's Black American Express cards, uh



"Maybach Music"



Rozay!
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Taal: Engels

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