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Trap Queen (Figgy Remix)

I'm like hey, wassup, hello

Seen yo 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 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 dope, 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 goAnd 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, yeahhAnd 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, yeahhI 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

Bitch you up on the bando

Ride with me where I can't go

Remy boys got extendo

Count up hella bands tho

I'll fuck in your benz hoe

Fetty Wap I'm living fifty thousand

K how I stand tho

If you checking for my pockets I'm likeAnd 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, yeahhAnd 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 babyI'm like hey, wassup, hello

Seen yo 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 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 dope, 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 goI 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 ya ho

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

Enjoy the lyrics !!!