LYRICS
Use A− / A+ to adjust text sizeTrap Queen
I'm like "hey, what's up, hello"Seen yo pretty ass soon as you came in that doorI just wanna chill, got a sack for us to rollMarried to the money, introduced her to my stoveShowed her how to whip it, now she remixin' for lowShe my trap queen, let her hit the bandoWe be countin' up, watch how far them bands goWe just set a goal, talkin' matchin' LambosGot 50, 60 grand, 500 grams thoughMan, I swear I love her how she work the damn poleHit the strip club, we be letting bands goEverybody hating, we just call them fans thoughIn love with the money, I ain't never letting goAnd I get high with my babyI just left the mall, I'm gettin' fly with my babyAnd I can ride with my babyI be in the kitchen cookin' pies with my babyAnd I get high with my babyI just left the mall, I'm gettin' fly with my baby, yeaahhAnd I can ride with my babyI be in the kitchen cookin' pies with my babyI hit the strip with my trap queen cause all we know is bandsI just might snatch up a 'Rari and buy my boo a Lamb'I might just snatch her a necklace, drop a couple on a ringShe ain't wantin' for nothin' because I got her everythingIt's big Zoo Wap from the bando, without dinero can't goRemy boys got the stamp, thoughCount up hella, them bands thoughHow far can your bands go?Fetty Wap I'm living fifty thousand K how I stand thoughIf you checkin' for my pockets I'm likeAnd I get high with my babyI just left the mall, I'm gettin' fly with my babyAnd I can ride with my babyI be in the kitchen cookin' pies with my babyAnd I get high with my babyI just left the mall, I'm gettin' fly with my baby, yeaahhAnd I can ride with my babyI be in the kitchen cookin' pies with my babyI'm like "hey, what's up, hello"Seen yo pretty ass soon as you came in that doorI just wanna chill, got a sack for us to rollMarried to the money, introduced her to my stoveShowed her how to whip it, now she remixin' for lowShe my trap queen, let her hit the bandoWe be countin' up, watch how far them bands goWe just set a goal, talkin' matchin' LambosGot 50, 60 grand, 500 grams thoughMan, I swear I love her how she work the damn poleHit the strip club, we be letting bands goEverybody hating, we just call them fans thoughIn love with the money, I ain't never letting goI be smoking dope and you know Backwoods what I rollRemy Boy, Fetty eating shit up that's fashoI'll run in ya house, then I'll fuck your hoCause Remy Boyz or nothin', Re-Re-Remy Boyz orAnd I get high with my babyI just left the mall, I'm gettin' fly with my babyAnd I can ride with my babyI be in the kitchen cookin' pies with my babyAnd I get high with my babyI just left the mall, I'm gettin' fly with my babyAnd I can ride with my babyI be in the kitchen cookin' pies with my babyGot a sack for us to roll
Are these lyrics correct?
Rate the public version or submit a correction for review.
LETROU FEATURE
Stage Mode
Large text, automatic scrolling and fullscreen for singing or practice.
FIND ANOTHER SONG
Find a song
Search by title or artist.
SINGER CENTER
Open tools →Train your voice
Breathing, warm-ups, pitch and vocal range.