[Hook: T-Pain]
Realest sh** I ever wrote, chilling in my Maybach
Whatever I send out, homey I'mma make back
Can you believe it? (Ooooh)
You gotta see it (Yay)
Cause I don't plan on going broke, put that on my Maybach
Cause I'm in it to win now, n***as can't take that
Listen to my Maybach music, to my Maybach music
[Verse 1: Kanye West]
Martin Louie the King Jr
Starting all that stunting is gonna ruin you
If B.I. was alive, he'd prob'ly have the 2-tone
With the Grey Poupon, anything 'Ye poop on
Will explode, cause I am the sh** 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 getting no s** tonight
And a lap dance'll prob'ly be a blessing, right?
So all the sh** you talking, 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
[Hook: T-Pain]
Realest sh** I ever wrote, chilling in my Maybach
Whatever I send out, homey I'mma make back
Can you believe it? (Ooooh)
You gotta see it (Yay)
Cause I don't plan on going broke, put that on my Maybach
Cause I'm in it to win now, n***as can't take that
Listen to my Maybach music, to my Maybach music
[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
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 b**hes call me Polo
57, 62: tell me how you wanna move
Yea you know I got them both, beat your a** black and blue
I was barely getting pretty women
Now I scoop Emmy winners like kitty litter
Any winter Fendi denim like a slender n***a
Looking in the mirror I can see the real contender
Celery for Eben Gregory I'm on my dinner
So what the f** is ya telling me other than your gender
I'm a boss and I'm riding like a small vault
n***as make your wheels and ride 'til they fall off
Yea, Ross
[Hook: T-Pain]
Realest sh** I ever wrote, chilling in my Maybach
Whatever I send out, homey I'mma make back
Can you believe it? (Ooooh)
You gotta see it (Yay)
Cause I don't plan on going broke, put that on my Maybach
Cause I'm in it to win now, n***as can't take that
Listen to my Maybach music, to my Maybach music
[Verse 3: Lil Wayne]
Well Alright
All-black Maybach I'm sitting in the a**hole
Cla**y as a mother still gutta like a bad bowl
Benjamin Franklin on Ex how the cash roll
That's right the mills do like damp clothes
I eat your meal too we don't feel you
And we be strapping up like the Navy Seal do
Sweet as banana split everytime I peel through
Fresher than Will Smith and Uncle Phil too
Watching TV in the Maybach in traffic
I'm on my feet like Tough Actin' Tinactin
I'm running this sh**, you should try tackling
Lil Wayne in one word: immaculate
You see the Big, you see the Jay, the Tu-pack in him
The Kurt Cobain, the Andre Three Stacks
And then I'm back to doing sh** like I do's in Maybach music
[Hook: T-Pain]
Realest sh** I ever wrote, chilling in my Maybach
Whatever I send out, homey I'mma make back
Can you believe it? (Ooooh)
You gotta see it (Yay)
Cause I don't plan on going broke, put that on my Maybach
Cause I'm in it to win now, n***as can't take that
Listen to my Maybach music, to my Maybach music