Rick Ross - Maybach Music III Lyrics

[Verse 1: T.I.]
My garage is flawless
Under a hundred thou when allowed
Maybach triple white like I'm ridin' 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 only strippin' Vegas
Chillin' been in bitches' faces with babies
Bitch bite yo tongue, this just ain't a Mercedes
Tell the A.T.F. I'm ridin' with another 380
Ask my car costs
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 Wall though
The story and the architecture Victorian
Ridin' in the past like you're drivin' a Delorean
Hard times never heard of those, in the back, my feet kicked up
Get my dick sucked with curtains closed
And for the record kid, my final question is
How yo bitch gon' feel in that when u two pull up next to this?
Hahahahaa, Maybach music niggaaa

[Chorus: Erykah Badu]
Everybody knows how the story goes
Money and the clothes they gon' come and go
But guess who stays the same? They gon' see the name
Stroll real slow where your colors roll

[Verse 2: Jadakiss]
Eheeee, uh, yeah!
Yo, the piff that I'm blowin' on's f*ckin' 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 hurtin' on, I got the curtains drawn
Whoever ain't gettin' shitted on, I'm squirtin' on
I'm in that 6 doin' 57 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
Came in the back of the back
I ain't did nothin' else, I'm somethin' else

[Chorus: Erykah Badu]
Everybody knows how the story goes
Money and the clothes they gon' come and go
But guess who stays the same? They gon' see the name
Stroll real slow where your colors roll

[Verse 3: Rick Ross]
Ughh, ugghhh
Cigar please, I came alive like a moff in the summer time
Japanese wheel blades all samurai
Shine brighter than them bitches on the other side
Time to make a blind mothaf*cka recognize
Ammunition got the competition non-existent
Had the bubble crack but didn't have a pot to piss it
I'll double that the day you try to knock a nigga
Street scholar gratuated, no father figure
Still tote chrome, check my chromosomes
Meet me at the halfway with things and a mobile home
Money machines yeah they lean 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 my money got a vendetta
Lookin' back to tell the truth, I coulda did better
Parents never had a good job
Now it's Black American Express cards (Maybach Music)
Rozayyy!