[Intro: Rick Ross]
Bad Boy, Maybach
You ain't even gotta count the money
It's all there, Boss
All aboard, "Last Train to Paris"
Heh, via the ghetto (Maybach Music)
Uhh, uhh

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
I'm a photographer's dream, counting cream as my chain swing
Mac-11 for the things that the days bring
I'm after cheddar, dirty money, yeah I chase cream
Patent leather like I'm Puffy in my Saleen
I rock jewels like my niggas in the A-Team
I'm outta space, can't you seem I am an alien?
My wrist A-list, Audemar is ageless
Bezel lit up like a billboard out in Vegas
You can't be serious baby, you know I'm on (fire)
Top 5 but can send you to the Most High
Dope boy and that's even in the bowtie
Oh boy, cause you know I got them close ties
(All aboard!) The last train to Paris
Wheels look like a ferris, your jeweler should be embarrassed
Rick the Ruler, my mula produce the carats (what?)
Let's bow our heads, I gave you somethin to cherish
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