Fetty Wap - Trap Queen (Remix) lyrics

I'm like hey, wa**up, hello Seen yo pretty a** 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 go And 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, yeahh And 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, yeahh I 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 b**h you up on the bando Ride with me where I can't go Remy boys got extendo Count up hella bands tho I'll f** in your benz hoe Fetty Wap I'm living fifty thousand K how I stand tho If you checking for my pockets I'm like And 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, yeahh And 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 I'm like hey, wa**up, hello Seen yo pretty a** 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 go I be smoking dope and you know Backwoods what I roll Remy Boy, Fetty eating sh** up that's fasho I'll run in ya house, then I'll f** ya ho Remy boyz are nuttin' re-re-remy boyz are nuttin'