Fetty Wap - Trap Queen (Gucci Mane & Quavo Remix) lyrics

[Intro] Remy Boyz, yeaahhhh 1738 [Bridge] I'm like "Hey, what's up, hello" Seen yo pretty a** soon as you came in that 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 Got 50, 60 grand, 500 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 letting go [Hook] And I get high with my baby I just left the mall, I'm gettin' fly with my baby, yeaaahhh And I can ride with my baby I be in the kitchen cookin' pies with my baby, yeaaahhh And I can ride with my baby I just left the mall, I'm gettin' fly with my baby, yeaaahhh And I can ride with my baby I be in the kitchen cookin' pies with my baby [Verse 2: Gucci Mane] Freshest n***a ever seen, pull up in a limousine Hit you with a magazine, now they play a violin Took that b**h right from your team I turned that b**h, she work for me First, they brought me 30 Gs Next, they brought me 30 keys I risk my life for 30 bricks I swear to God I'd do it again Gucci Mane the topping trend Trending topic, f** I mean I'mma keep my pop a bean Then grab that thing and hit your spleen Count my money with machine Hooder than a Cut Supreme Irrational, Old National With a bad b**h in a Grand National It's just politics, I'm taxing ya You're like a grilled cheese, n***a, I'm smashing ya You just a daddy boy, n***a, so your dad beats ya 10 G's who find the boy, that's a finder fee Holy macaroni, boy, you're Roly blinding me And I tote the strap like every n***a signed to me [Hook] And I get high with my baby I just left the mall, I'm gettin' fly with my baby, yeaaahhh And I can ride with my baby I be in the kitchen cookin' pies with my baby, yeaaahhh And I can ride with my baby I just left the mall, I'm gettin' fly with my baby, yeaaahhh And I can ride with my baby I be in the kitchen cookin' pies with my baby [Verse 3: Quavo] I'm like "hey, what's up, hello" I met you in the kitchen whippin' in the bando And Imma need you to cook a baby And when you cook that baby, I'mma buy you a Mercedes Look at the thighs on her Oh, I wanna ride on her And we in a coupe goin' crazy Go to Venezuela, that's a getaway vacation She the trap queen, she cook it I'm the trap king, I bring the cash You a p**y, so I took your bag If you get money with your baby say "yeaaahhh" [Hook] And I get high with my baby I just left the mall, I'm gettin' fly with my baby, yeaaahhh And I can ride with my baby I be in the kitchen cookin' pies with my baby, yeaaahhh And I can ride with my baby I just left the mall, I'm gettin' fly with my baby, yeaaahhh And I can ride with my baby I be in the kitchen cookin' pies with my baby