Fetty Wap - Trap Queen Lyrics
I'm like "hey, what's up, hello"Seen yo pretty ass soon as you came in that doorI just wanna chill, got a sack for us to rollMarried to the money, introduced her to my stoveShowed her how to whip it, now she remixin' for lowShe my trap queen, let her hit the bandoWe be countin' up, watch how far them bands goWe just set a goal, talkin' matchin' LambosGot 56 a gram, prob' a 100 grams thoughMan, I swear I love her how she work the damn poleHit the strip club, we be letting bands goEverybody hating, we just call them fans thoughIn love with the money, I ain't never letting goAnd I get high with my baby (baby)I just left the mall, I'm getting fly with my baby, yeahAnd I can ride with my baby (baby)I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby, yeahAnd I get high with my baby (baby)I just left the mall, I'm getting fly with my baby, yeahAnd I can ride with my baby (baby)I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby, yeahI hit the strip with my trap queen 'cause all we know is bandsI just might snatch up a 'Rari and buy my boo a 'LambI might just snatch her necklace, drop a couple on a ringShe ain't want it for nothin' because I got her everything***** you up in the bando, without deniro can't goRemi boys got extendo, count up hella bands thoHow far can your Benz go?Fetty Wap I'm living fifty thousand K how I stand thoIf you checking out my pockets hol' upAnd I get high with my baby (baby)I just left the mall, I'm getting fly with my baby, yeahAnd I can ride with my baby (baby)I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby, yeahAnd I get high with my baby (baby)I just left the mall, I'm getting fly with my baby, yeahAnd I can ride with my baby (baby)I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby, yeahI'm like "hey, what's up, hello"Seen yo pretty ass soon as you came in that doorI just wanna chill, got a sack for us to rollMarried to the money, introduced her to my stoveShowed her how to whip it, now she remixin' for lowShe my trap queen, let her hit the bandoWe be countin' up, watch how far them bands goWe just set a goal, talkin' matchin' LambosGot 50, 60 grand, 5 100 grams thoughMan, I swear I love her how she work the damn poleHit the strip club, we be letting bands goEverybody hating, we just call them fans thoughIn love with the money, I ain't never letting goI be smoking dope and you know Backwoods what I rollRemy Boy, Fetty eating shit up that's fashoIll run in ya house, then I'll ***** your ho'Cause Remy Boyz are nuttin', Re-Re-Remy Boyz are nuttin' yea u hear my boy sounding like a zillion bucks on a track
