Trap Queen

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Remy Boyz, yeaahhhh 1738 I'm like "hey, what's up, hello" Seen yo pretty ass soon as you came in that door I just wanna chill, got a sack for us to roll Married to the money, introduced her to my stove Showed her how to whip it, now she remixin' for low She my trap queen, let her hit the bando We be countin' up, watch how far them bands go We just set a goal, talkin' matchin' Lambos Got 50, 60 grand, 5 100 grams though Man, I swear I love her how she work the damn pole Hit the strip club, we be letting bands go Everybody hating, we just call them fans though In love with the money, I ain't never letting go And I get high with my baby I just left the mall, I'm gettin' fly with my baby, yeaaahhh And I can ride with my baby I be in the kitchen cookin' pies with my baby, yeeaahhh And I get high with my baby I just left the mall, I'm gettin' fly with my baby, yeaaahhh And I can ride with my baby I be in the kitchen cookin' pies with my baby, yeeaahhh I hit the strip with my trap queen cause all we know is bands I just might snatch up a 'Rari and buy my boo a Lamb' I might just snatch her necklace, drop a couple on a ring She ain't want it for nothin' because I got her everything It's big zoo wap in the bando, without deniro can't go Remi boys got extendo, count up hella bands tho How far can your Benz go? Fetty Wap I'm living fifty thousand K how I stand tho If you checking out my pockets I'm locked And I get high with my baby I just left the mall, I'm gettin' fly with my baby, yeaaahhh And I can ride with my baby I be in the kitchen cookin' pies with my baby, yeeaahhh And I get high with my baby I just left the mall, I'm gettin' fly with my baby, yeaaahhh And I can ride with my baby I be in the kitchen cookin' pies with my baby, yeeaahhh I'm like "hey, what's up, hello" Seen yo pretty ass soon as you came in that door I just wanna chill, got a sack for us to roll Married to the money, introduced her to my stove Showed her how to whip it, now she remixin' for low She my trap queen, let her hit the bando We be countin' up, watch how far them bands go We just set a goal, talkin' matchin' Lambos Got 50, 60 grand, 5 100 grams though Man, I swear I love her how she work the damn pole Hit the strip club, we be letting bands go Everybody hating, we just call them fans though In love with the money, I ain't never letting go I be smoking dope and you know Backwoods what I roll Remy Boy, Fetty eating shit up that's fasho Ill run in ya house, then I'll fuck your ho Cause Remy Boyz or nothin', Re-Re-Remy Boyz or nothin'