Trap Queen

I'm like, "Hey, what's up? Hello." Seen your pretty ass 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 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 A 50, 60 grand, prob' a hundred 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 ever letting go And I get high with my baby I just left the mall, I'm getting fly with my baby, yeah And I can ride with my baby I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby, yeah And I get high with my baby I just left the mall, I'm getting fly with my baby, yeah And I can ride with my baby I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby I hit the strip with my trap queen 'cause all we know is bands I just might snatch a 'Rari and buy my boo a Lamb' I just might snatch her a necklace, drop a couple on a ring She ain't wanting 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, 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 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, yeah And I can ride with my ababy I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby, yeah And I get high with my baby I just left the mall, I'm getting fly with my baby, yeah And I can ride with my baby I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby I'm like, "Hey, what's up? Hello." Seen your pretty ass 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 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 A 50, 60 grand, prob' a hundred grand 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 ever letting go 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 fuck your hoe 'Cause Remy Boyz or nothing, Re-Re-Remy Boyz or nothing Baby My trap queen My trap queen, babe My trap queen