Trap Queen

Written by：Willie Maxwell/Tony Fadd

I'm like hey wassup hello

Seen yo pretty a** soon as you came in the 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 remix it for low

She my trap queen let her hit the bando

We be counting up watch how far them bands go

We just selling d**e talking matching lambos

Got 50 60 grams prob 100 grams though

Man I swear I love her how she work that 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 getting fly with my baby yeahh

And I get right with my baby

I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby yeahh

And I get right with my baby

I just left the mall I'm getting fly with my baby yeahh

And I get right with my baby

I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby yeahh

I hit the strip with my trap queen

'Cause all we know is bands

I might just snatch up a Rari

And buy my boo a Lambo

I might just snatch up a necklace

Drop a couple on a ring

She ain't want it for nothin'

Because I got her everything

B**ch you up on the bando

Ride with me where I can't go

Remy boys got extendo

Count up hella bands though

I'll f**k in your benz hoe

Fetty Wap I'm living fifty thousand

K how I stand though

If you checking for my pockets I'm like

And I get high with my baby

I just left the mall I'm getting fly with my baby yeahh

And I get right with my baby

I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby yeahh

And I get right with my baby

I just left the mall I'm getting fly with my baby yeahh

And I get right with my baby

I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby

I'm like hey wassup hello

Seen yo pretty a** soon as you came in the 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 remix it for low

She my trap queen let her hit the bando

We be counting up watch how far them bands go

We just selling d**e talking matching lambos

Got 50 60 grams prob 100 grams though

Man I swear I love her how she work that damn pole

Hit the strip club we be letting them bands go

Everybody hating we just call them fans though

In love with the money I ain't never letting go

I be smoking d**e and you know Backwoods what I roll

Remy Boy Fetty eating sh*t up that's fasho

I'll run in ya house then I'll f**k ya ho

Remy boyz are nuttin' re-re-remy boyz are nuttin'