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Trap Queen

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Lyrics
Writer(s): Willie Maxwell, Anton Matsulevich

yeah Seventeen thirty eight

hey I'm like hey what's up hello

Seen your 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 remixing for low

She my trap queen let her hit the bando

We be counting up watch how far them bands go

We just set a goal talking matching Lambos

A fifty sixty 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

And I can ride with my baby

I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby

And I can ride with my baby

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

And I can ride with my baby

I be in the kitchen cooking pies

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 wanting for nothing because I got her everything

It's 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 checking out my pockets I'm like

And I get high with my baby

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

And I can ride with my baby

I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby

And I can ride with my baby

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

And I can ride with my baby

I be in the kitchen cooking pies

I'm like hey what's up hello

Seen your 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 remixing for low

She my trap queen let her hit the bando

We be counting up watch how far them bands go

We just set a goal talking matching Lambos

A fifty sixty 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

hey I be smoking and you know Backwoods what I roll

Remy boy Fetty eating up that's fasho

I'll run in ya house then I'll your hoe

‘Cause Remy Boyz or nothing

Remy Remy Remy

Boyz or nothing

Yeah you hear my boy sounding like a zillion

bucks on a track uh

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 uh

Nittdagrit RGF Productions