Maybach Music

What is this? Maybach musicI like this Maybach musicSweet!Ha ha ha!Come and take a rideCome and take a rideBillionaireYayoJustice League57 years, yes!Blood for a D-BoyHand my mack 11 to the engineer to recordGot the baddest women in the world for me to feed onDouble deck yacht, docked Boss, blowing weed upRevenue incredible, it put me on a pedestalColumbia to Mexico, I figure there was a better routeLook at me, a model nowModels and bottles 'roundA Blood holla', ballinBut the boys in blue, they shot 'em downGang-affiliated, colors prosecutors painted'Cause the niggas I employed, name synonymous with Mi-YayoInstrumental that are mental, Maybach kind of mental400 off the lot, the block is monumentalSome things your money can't buyLike Heaven in the sky, even a better rideIn the rear, so many instruments I hearTucked behind curtain, no sign to fear, Ross!I'm higher than a leerThis Maybach music, designer shit I wearMay cause you to lose itClose your eyes and inhale the smokeIt's Maybach music, the realest shit I wrote, nigga5 ounces, take a tokeOf this Maybach music, the realest shit I wroteBoss!Young!Fuck it then!Black Maybach, white seas, black pipingRemind me of Paul McCartney and Mike fightingYou know, The Girl Is MineLife's A Bitch, so The Whole World Is MineThe six-deuce long, the curtains are drawnPerfectly like a Picasso, Rembrandts and Rocco'sI'm a major player, 40-40's in Vegas at the PalazzoThey said it was not soCertain things that money can't buyLike being this fly'Til then, I'm just gonna' rideI'm like G-Rap with better transportationOn the road to the riches, reach my Final DestinationAnd the lair, closer to a leerSay a Prayer, hope I get ta' see herWhen I disappear from here, baby, yeahBut I don't see the ending through these millionaire lensesJust the Two M's on the emblemThe partition roof, translucent and HumadorWhere refrigerators, where Ace of Spades, or two I storeTrue story, my closet is like two storiesStraight to the happy ending, 'cause I don't do storiesShawn Corey, real rapThe Maybach is bananas, peel backYou feel that?Young! C'mon!Realest shit I ever wrote, chillin' in my Maybach8-track episodes, been doing this since way backSince way back, since way back8-track episodes, been doing this since way back!Realest shit I ever wrote, chillin' in my Maybach8-track episodes, been doing this since way backSince way back, since way back8-track episodes, been doing this since way back!Boss!Can't be stopped nowWe got too much cakeThey pinching pennies, while I'm muscling for mealsAnd that muscle be that muzzle, when I stuff it in your grillStuffed shells, thanks to crack, I crackCrab and lobsters, not all mobstersImposters, got cha!Boy, I got an eagle view, slanted on my balconyCan only stay a week or two, so many people out for meI bulletproofed the MaybachGot a killer's intuitionHolding on that mack 11, Machiavelli premonitionWaiting on my Suge KnightOne nation under God, since I chose a thug's lifeGuess I gotta play my partNever will I die, my name symbolizeThe hustle for young killers coming from the other sideSome things your money can't buyLike Heaven in the sky, even a better rideI'm large, my black carMenagin' black broads, massage for fraudsI'm livin' large, my fat rocksI see the kill in the field of hip-hopRunnin' up on the car, you get popped, mopped and droppedI'm the Boss!