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Fetty Wap – Trap Queen Lyrics

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Remy Boyz, yeaahhhh

1738

I’m like “Hey, what’s up? 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 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

At 56 a gram, 5 a 100 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 never lettin’ go

And I get high with my baby

I just left the mall, I’m gettin’ fly with my baby, yeah

And I can ride with my baby

I be in the kitchen cookin’ pies with my baby, yeah

And I can ride with my baby

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I just left the mall, I’m gettin’ fly with my baby, yeah

And I can ride with my baby

I be in the kitchen cookin’ pies with my baby

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 wantin’ for nothin’ because I got her everything

It’s big ZooWap from the bando, remind me where I can’t go

Remy Boyz got the stamp, though

Count up hella them bands though

Boy how far can your bands go?

Fetty Wap I’m livin’ fifty thousand

K how I stand though, if you checkin’ for my pockets I’m like

And I get high with my baby

I just left the mall, I’m gettin’ fly with my baby, yeah

And I can ride with my baby

I be in the kitchen cookin’ pies with my baby, yeah

And I can ride with my baby

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I just left the mall, I’m gettin’ fly with my baby, yeah

And I can ride with my baby

I be in the kitchen cookin’ pies with my baby

I’m like “hey, what’s up, 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 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

At 56 a gram, 5 a 100 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 never lettin’ go

I be smokin’ dope and you know Backwoods what I roll

Remy Boyz, Fetty eating shit up that’s fasho

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I’ll run in ya house, then I’ll fuck your ho

Cause Remy Boyz or nothin’, Re-Re-Remy Boyz or nothin’

(She my trap queen)

Yeah, you hear my boy

(She my trap queen)

Soundin’ like a zillion bucks on the track

(She my trap queen)

I got whatever on my boy, whatever

(And I get high with my baby)

Put your money where your mouth is

Money on the wood make the game go good

Money out of sight cause fights

Put up or shut up, huh?

Nitt Da Gritt, RGF Productions

(ZooWap)


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