FETTY WAP


Trap Queen Lyrics

RGF Productions Remy Boyz, yeaahhhh
1738 aye

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, 500 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
And I can ride with my baby
I be in the kitchen cookin' pies with
my
baby
And I can ride 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

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 a necklace,
drop a
couple on a ring
She ain't wantin' for nothin' because
I got
her everything
It's big Zoo Wap from the bando,
without
dinero can't go
Remy boys got the stamp, though
Count up hella, them bands though
How far can your bands go?
Fetty Wap I'm living fifty thousand K
how I
stand though
If you checkin' for my pockets I'm
like

And I get high with my baby
I just left the mall, I'm gettin' fly
with
my baby
And I can ride with my baby
I be in the kitchen cookin' pies with
my
baby
And I can ride 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

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, 500 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
Yeah
I be smoking dope and you know
Backwoods
what I roll
Remy Boy, Fetty eating shit up that's
fasho
I'll run in ya house, then I'll f**k
your
ho
Cause Remy Boyz or nothin', Re-Re-Remy
Boyz
or nothin' Yeah With My Boy Sounding
Like A
Zillion Bucks
On The
Track Huh I Got Whatever On My Boy
Whatever
Put Your
Money Where Your
Mouth Is Money On The Woods Make The
Gang
Go Good
Money Outta Site
Boy Fight Huh Hit The Crib RGF
Production

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Songwriter(s): Willie Maxwell, Anton Matsulevich, Tony Fadd
Publisher(s): Sony/ATV Allegro, Goodfella4life Ent., 45th And 3rd Music Publishing Inc., BMG, BMG Gold Songs, Tony Fadd Beats, Zoovier
Record Label(s): 2015 300 Entertainment RGF Productions
Official lyrics by

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