Maybach Music 2

Hey! Realest shit I ever wrote, chillin' in my Maybach

Whatever I send out homie I'ma make back

Can you believe that? Whoa-ooh-ooh

You gotta see it (hey)

'Cause I don't plan on goin' broke, put that on my Maybach

'Cause I'm in it to win now, niggas can't take that

Listen to my Maybach music

To my Maybach music

Martin, Louie the King Jr

Startin' all that stuntin' is gon' ruin you

B.I. was alive, he'd prob'ly have the 2-tone

With the Grey Poupon, anythin' 'Ye poop on

Will explode cause I am the shit and this is my commode

Uh-oh, there they go

Talkin' 'bout how your boy's clothes extra tight

I just remembered that my limelight extra bright

I hit the strip club and girls get extra hype

You hit the strip club and girls turn extra dyke

We know who not gettin' no sex tonight

And a lap dance'll probably be a blessin', right?

So all the shit you talkin' dead, coffin

Light the weed, coughin', new crib, loft in

Where it's at? Austin, where is that? Texas

What's in front? Benzes, what else? Lexus

Well who's Maybach is this? Mr. West's

Realest shit I ever wrote, chillin' in my Maybach

Whatever I send out, homie I'ma make back

Can you believe that? Whoa-ooh-ooh

You gotta see it (hey)

'Cause I don't plan on goin' broke, put that on my Maybach

'Cause I'm in it to win now, niggas can't take that

Listen to my Maybach music

To my Maybach music

Boss!

Kush burn like petroleum, crib needs custodians

Shades in all shades, these made of rhodium

Used to be the Oldsmo, hoes call it oh-lo

Now I got so many horses, bitches call me Polo

57, 62, tell me how you wanna move

Yeah, you know I got them both, beat your ass black and blue

I was barely gettin' pretty women

Now I scoop Emmy winners like kitty litter

Any winter, Fendi denim like a slender nigga

Lookin' in the mirror, I can see the real contender

Celery for Eben Gregory, I'm on my dinner

So what the fuck is ya tellin' me other than your gender?

I'm a boss and I'm ridin' like a small Vogue

Niggas make your wheels and ride 'em 'til they fall off

Yeah, Ross!

Hey! Realest shit I ever wrote, chillin' in my Maybach

Whatever I send out, homie I'ma make back

Can you believe that? Whoa-ooh-ooh

You gotta see it (hey)

'Cause I don't plan on goin' broke, put that on my Maybach

'Cause I'm in it to win now, niggas can't take that

Listen to my Maybach music

To my Maybach music

Well alright, heheh!

All black Maybach, I'm sittin' in the asshole

Classy as a mother, still gutter like a bad bowl

Benjamin Franklin on X how that cash roll

That's right, the mills do like damp clothes

I eat your meal too, we don't feel you

And we be strappin' up like the Navy Seal do

Sweet as banana split everytime I peel through

Fresher than Will Smith and Uncle Phil too

Watchin' TV in the Maybach in traffic

I'm on my feet like Tough Actin' Tinactin

I'm runnin' this shit, you should try tacklin'

Lil Wayne in one word, immaculate

You see the BIG, you see the Jay, the 2Pac in him

The Kurt Cobain, the Andre Three Stacks

And then I'm back to doin' shit like I do's in Maybach music

Realest shit I ever wrote, chillin' in my Maybach

Whatever I send out, homie I'ma make back

Can you believe that? Whoa-ooh-ooh

You gotta see it (hey)

'Cause I don't plan on goin' broke, put that on my Maybach

'Cause I'm in it to win now, niggas can't take that

Listen to my Maybach music

To my Maybach music