Millions Pusha T (Ft. Rick Ross)

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[Intro: Pusha T]
You know what happen when G.O.O.D. Music and MMG get together, right?
We get that money

[Chorus: Pusha T]
Millions-millions in the ceiling, millions-millions in the ceiling
Millions-millions in the ceiling, millions-millions in the ceiling
Choppas-choppas in the closet, choppas-choppas in the closet
Choppas-choppas in the closet, choppas-choppas in the closet
Millions-millions in the ceiling, millions-millions in the ceiling
Millions-millions in the ceiling, millions-millions in the ceiling
Choppas-choppas in the closet, choppas-choppas in the closet
Choppas-choppas in the closet, choppas-choppas in the closet

[Verse 1: Pusha T]
This that shit that y'all wanted
This shit cook up hard, don't it?
Y'all gotta beg my pardon on it
But this shit sound like God, don't it?
Yuugh, I'm tired, nigga
And y'all gotta pay your tithes, nigga
Call my Phantom the holy ghost
Church on chrome wheel tires, nigga
Pop tags when I'm paranoid
'Cause the pawn shop was my paradise
I was dead pop when that powder came
For that knot saved in that shoebox
Blue tops, blue tops, bad bitch in that blue fox
This big face is in Blu-Ray
And these black diamonds like Boondocks