TRAP QUEEN

RGF production Remy Boyz, yeah 1738 ey 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 Got 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 through 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 can ride 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 'Rarri 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 ZooWap from the bando, without dinero can't go Remy Boyz 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 baby I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby, yeah And I can ride 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 Got 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 through In love with the money, I ain't ever letting go I be smoking dope and you know Backwoods what I roll Remy Boyz, 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 Yeah, you hear my boy Sounding like a zillion bucks on a track I got whatever on my boy, whatever Put your money where your mouth is Money on the wood make the game go good Money outta sight cause fights Put up or shut up Uh, Nitt Da Gritt, RGF productions (S-quaw)