Maybach Music III (feat. T.I., Jadakiss & Erykah Badu)

(J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League)

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 MIA to ATL in style

Henn' in crowds, catch me in TAO

On the strip in Vegas, chillin'

Fillin' bitches' faces with babies

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

Tell the ATF 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 NY, meet me at the Waldorf

Historian, architecture Victorian

Riding in the past, like you're drivin' a DeLorean

Hard times, never heard of those in the back

My feet licked up, gettin' 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?

Maybach music, ****

Everybody knows how the story goes

Money and the clothes, they gon' come and go

But guess who stays the same

You gon' see my name

Stroll real slow

Yo, piff that I'm blowin' on is fuckin' up the ozone

Plus I keep a dope line, similar to Cold Stone's (Uh)

Ice cream (Uh)

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 get shitted on, I'm squirtin' on

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

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

I'm something else

Everybody knows, how the story goes

Money and the clothes, they gon' come and go

But guess who stays the same

You gon' see my name

Stroll real slow

Cigar, please

I came alive like a moth in the summertime

Japanese wheel blades, all samurai

Shine brighter than them bitches on the other side

Tryna make a blind motherfucker recognize

Ammunition got the competition nonexistent

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

I double that, how dare you try to knock a ****

Street scholar, graduated, no father figure

Still tote chrome, check my chromosomes

Meet me halfway with things in a mobile home

Money machine, yeah, they ring like a mobile phone

I'ma 7-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

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)

Rozay