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Trap Queen

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Lyrics
Seventeen thirtyeight

Hey

I'm like hey what's up hello

Sit 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' matLambos

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

yeah

And I can ride with my baby

I be in the kitchen

cooking pies 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

I'm like hey what's up hello

I hit the strip

with trap

'cos all we know is bands

I snatch a 'Rari

and buy my boo a Lamb'

I just might snatch her

a necklace

Drop a couple on a

She ain't wanting for nothin'

because I got her everything

Zoo Wap

From the bando

without dinero can't go

Reboys got the stamp

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

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 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

I'm like hey what's up hello

Sit your pretty ass

soon as you came in the door

I just wachill

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 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

I be smoking dope

and you know

backwoods what I roll

Remy boy Fetty

eating shit up that's fa sho

I'll run in ya house

then I'll fuck your hoe

'Cos Remy boyz or nothing

ReRemy boyz or nothing

Yeah

You hear my boy

sounding like a zillion

bucks on a track

I got whatever on my boy

whatever

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

huh

Nittdagrit

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