Rick Ross Ft JAY-Z – Maybach Music Lyrics

The first edition of the “Maybach Music” series finds Jay and Rozay dropping verses over a J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League track, and producer Rook talked about how the track came together:

I did the skeleton for the track and it had a sample in it. Of course, we added the live instruments on top of the sample. We always had this special little folder for JAY-Z [laughs]. We had that beat in the stash for maybe a couple of months. […] We play [Rick Ross] the beat—it was called ‘Never Die’—and he was just smoking and he was silent. And then he looks at us like, ‘Yo…I’ma call this ‘Maybach Music’…and I’ma put JAY-Z on this.’ We were like, ‘Oh shit, JAY-Z? Alright!’ [Laughs]

So we’re mixing ‘Maybach Music’—I’m talking about we are at the final mixing stage with Leslie Brathwaite at Patchwerk [Studios] and there’s still no JAY-Z verse. At the last, last, last minute, Leslie gets a phone call: ‘Yo, about to send you the vocals.’ And we were like, ‘God damn! Yes! Finally!’ So we finally got this shit and we listened to it and we were like, ‘God damn! This is one of Jay’s hardest verses.’

Maybach Music Lyrics by Rick Ross Ft JAY-Z

[Intro]
Heh, what is this? (Maybach Music)
I like this Maybach Music
(Sweet!) Hahahaha
Come and take a ride
Come and take a, come and take a ride

[Interlude: Rick Ross]
Billionaire, yayo
(J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League)
[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
57, yes, yes, good for a D-Boy
Hand my MAC-11 to the engineer to record
Got the baddest women in the world for me to feed on
Double deck yacht, docked Boss, blowin’ weed up
Revenue incredible, it put me on a pedestal
Columbia to Mexico, I figured was a better route
Look at me, a model now, models and them bottles ’round
A Blood holla, “Ballin,'” but the boys in blue, they shot ’em down
Gang-affiliated, colors prosecutors painted
Cause the niggas I employed name synonymous with mayhem
Instrumentals that are mental, Maybach kind of mental
400 off the lot, the block is monumental (Boss)
Some things your money can’t buy
Like Heaven in the sky, even a better ride
In the rear, so many instruments I hear
Tucked behind curtain, no sign to fear
I’m higher than a lear, this Maybach music
Designer shit I wear, make hoes lose it (Boss)
Close your eyes and inhale the smoke
It’s Maybach music, the realest shit I wrote, nigga
By an ounce, take a toke
Of this Maybach music, the realest shit I wrote
Boss!

[Interlude: Jay-Z]
It’s Young!
Hahahah, fuck it then

[Verse 2: Jay-Z]
Black Maybach, white seats, black pipin’
Remind me of Paul McCartney and Mike fightin’
You know, “The Girl Is Mine”
Life’s a bitch, so the whole world is mine
The six-deuce long, the curtains are drawn
Perfectly like a Picasso, Rembrandts and Rothkos
I’m a major player, 40/40’s in Vegas at the Palazzo
They said it was not so
Certain things your money can’t buy
Like being this fly, ’til then, I’m just gon’ ride
I’m like G Rap with better transportation
On the road to the riches, reach my final destination
In the lear, closer to Aaliyah, say a prayer
Hope I get to see her when I disappear from here, baby, yeah
But I don’t see the endin’ through these millionaire lenses
Just the two M’s on the emblem
The partition roof, translucent and humidor
Refrigerators, where Ace of Spades or two I store
True story, my closet is like two stories
Straight to the happy endin’, cause I don’t do stories
Shawn Corey, real rap
The Maybach is bananas—peel back

[Interlude: Jay-Z]
Hahahah, you feel that? Young, c’mon
[Chorus: Jay-Z]
Realest shit I ever wrote, chillin’ in my Maybach
8-track episodes, been doin’ this since way back
Since way back, since way back
8-track episodes, been doin’ this since way back
Realest shit I ever wrote, chillin’ in my Maybach
8-track episodes, been doin’ this since way back
Since way back, since way back
8-track episodes, been doin’ this since way back

[Interlude: Rick Ross]
Boss, can’t be stopped now
We got too much cake

[Verse 3: Rick Ross]
They pinchin’ pennies, while I’m musclin’ for mills
And that muscle be that muzzle, when I stuff it in your grill
Stuffed shells, thanks to crack, I crack crab and lobsters
Not all mobsters imposters, gotcha
Boy, I got a eagle view, standin’ on my balcony
Can only stay a week or two, so many people out for me
I bulletproofed the Maybach, got a killer’s intuition
Holdin’ on that MAC-11, Makaveli premonition
Waitin’ on my Suge Knight, one nation under God
Since I chose a thug’s life, guess I gotta play my part
Never will I die, my name symbolized
The hustle for young killers coming from the other side
Some things your money can’t buy
Like Heaven in the sky, even a better ride
I’m large, my black car, menagin’ black broads
Massage for frauds, I’m livin’ large, my fat rocks
It’s eat to kill in the field of hip-hop
Runnin’ up on the car, you get popped, mopped and dropped
I’m the boss