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letra de maybach (east mix) - dave east

[intro]
cool, i just paint it blue
ooh, your b-tch ate me too
blocboy what’s crackin’?
i had to do this sh-t

[chorus]
ridin’ in a mothaf-ckin’ maybach
my homie he fresh out, he just did eight flat
connect fronted some work, i still ain’t payed back
every snitch should die, on god i hate rats
ridin’ in a mothaf-ckin’ maybach
my homie he fresh out, he just did eight flat
connect fronted some work, i still ain’t payed back
every snitch should die, on god i hate rats

[verse]
cool, i just paint it blue
ooh, your b-tch ate the crew
true, gang i bang it too
do, what i came to do
ice, water just splash in the patek
i caught him in traffic on madison
i took his top off over some khalid sh-t
600 start up automatic
no response, i act like i don’t hear that
told my b-tch, bring a friend ya’ll can share that
head shot, aim, right where your beard at
new glock, shoot you right out your air max
amiri and off white, i wear that
slippers on ’em blocks where you n-ggas scared at
everywhere i go, my jewelry i wear that
same club you front in, you end up dead at
i’m sober [?], where the meds at
i’m not tryna go where the feds at
you jackin’ my bro ’til i dead that
tell don or tee grizz’ send a head tap
i bought a rover with my first check
and i ain’t even went to work yet
catch an opp and leave his shirt wet
how new york sound, yeah i heard flex
blocboy that’s my grape
now i got the cops talking ’bout my tapes
scr-p you in the box, cause i’m gaining weight
pull up on the plug, i ain’t tryna wait
new prada’s with the straps
call my n-ggas fats, send another batch
she give me head and get a cab
i’ll come outside and get a bag
i ain’t talkin’ bout the dance, when me and wiz did the dab
i left kids in her mouth, she had your kids and you mad
we got a crib in the south, and bought some whips with the cash
i got a stick in my bag, you play i’m unzippin’ it fast

[chorus]
ridin’ in a mothaf-ckin’ maybach
my homie he fresh out, he just did eight flat
connect fronted some work, i still ain’t payed back
every snitch should die, on god i hate rats
ridin’ in a mothaf-ckin’ maybach
my homie he fresh out he just did eight flat
connect fronted some work, i still ain’t payed back
every snitch should die, on god i hate rats

[outro]
blocboy, my n-gga
i f-ck with the rover, you know what i mean?
it’s maybach season, my n-gga
big boy toys and sh-t like that, blue lights, you dig?
feel like first-cl-ss in the backseat
maybach
my homie he fresh out, he just did eight flat
every snitch should die, on god i hate rats

- dave east

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