This thing is called the BRABUS 900 ROCKET EDITION, and before you ask, yes — it’s exactly as mad as it sounds. Probably madder. It’s a G-Wagen with supercar power, a side-exit exhaust, carbon everywhere, and a production cap of 30 cars, which tells you immediately that nobody involved ever once asked, “Should we?”
It all starts with the engine, because it always should when Brabus is involved.
Hiding under the bonnet is the already powerful V8 of the G-Wagen, but it was completely taken apart and rebuilt by BRABUS with the sort of enthusiasm that’s normally reserved for race car engineers and Mat Armstrong.
Capacity grows to 4.5 litres, boost goes to the North Pole, and the result is a whooping 900 horsepower and up to 1,250 Nm of torque. That’s not a typo. That’s lorry torque.
Now here’s the bit that makes your brain itch. This thing weighs over two and a half tonnes. And yet it does 0–100 km/h in 3.7 seconds. You don’t expect that. Your inner ear doesn’t expect that. Your neck definitely doesn’t expect that. It just sort of happens, very fast, and then you laugh because that’s the only sensible response.
Top speed is limited to 240 km/h, which sounds like restraint until you remember the tyres are doing all the negotiating with physics here. At that point, electronics aren’t cowardice. They’re manners.
What I really like — and I mean properly like — is how BRABUS gets there. No magic tricks. No pretending software can replace metal. Bigger bores. Longer stroke. Forged pistons. A proper crankshaft. It’s engine tuning in the old-fashioned sense, the sort that smells faintly of oil and confidence. Displacement climbs past 4.4 litres and suddenly the G-Wagen starts behaving like it’s late for something important.
The turbos are bigger, stronger, and louder in personality. There are BoostXtra valves, which is a very BRABUS name for “listen to this.” Lift off mid-throttle and it answers back. Not obnoxiously. Just enough to remind you it’s awake and paying attention.
Then you hit the exhaust. Side exit. Ahead of the rear wheels. Twin pipes. Carbon surrounds. Red lighting. Because why wouldn’t your exhaust glow red at night? There’s a quiet mode if you’re sneaking home, but Sport mode is the one you’ll use, because if you’ve bought this and you’re worried about subtlety, something’s gone wrong earlier in life.
Visually, it’s a full commitment. You get an exposed-carbon widebody, high-gloss, and no apologies. The front comes with a new fascia with air intakes that actually look like they mean business, plus that bonnet bulge that suggests something underneath is trying to escape. The grille lights up. The logo lights up. At night, it looks like it’s already mid-launch.
The wheels are enormous. Twenty-four inches. Monoblock II alloys with carbon aero blades because, yes, aero apparently still matters when your car looks like a luxury bunker. The rear tyres are 355s. Three hundred and fifty-five. That’s race-car width on something with door hinges you could anchor a ship to.
Round the back, there’s more carbon, a roof wing, an illuminated BRABUS logo in red, and a rear fascia that somehow makes all this excess feel intentional rather than accidental. That’s harder than it sounds.
Inside, it calms down just enough to remind you this still costs serious money. There’s black leather everywhere, hand-stitched and quilted – not just on the seats but on the doors and even the floor. It probably feels expensive even when you touch it, which matters.
Two interior specs will exist. One all black and quietly menacing. The other with red piping and red accents, which feels like it’s daring you to drive it badly.
There’s carbon trim, aluminium details, and my favourite party trick: carbon paddle shifters with LED rev lights built in. Green, yellow, red. It’s the sort of thing you don’t need at all and absolutely want five minutes after trying it.
Even the doors open wider now, which feels almost considerate. And BRABUS throws in a matching leather Weekender bag and key cover, because of course they do. If you’re doing excess, you may as well be thorough.
Price? Just under 570,000 euros before tax. Thirty cars total.
Is it ridiculous? Completely. Is it brilliant? Also yes. It’s a supercar wearing hiking boots, built by people who understand that sometimes the point isn’t balance or restraint or reason.
