LYRICS.AZ APPLICATION

Download from Apple Store
Download from Google Play

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

[Intro]
Remy Boyz, yeaahhhh
1738

[Bridge]
I'm like "Hey, what's up, hello"
Seen yo pretty ass 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 nigga ever seen, pull up in a limousine
Hit you with a magazine, now they play a violin
Took that bitch right from your team
I turned that bitch, 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, fuck I mean
I'mma keep my pop a bean
Then grab that thing and hit your spleen
Count my money with machine
[Lyrics from: https:/lyrics.az/quavo/-/trap-queen-gucci-mane-quavo-remix.html]
Hooder than a Cut Supreme
Irrational, Old National
With a bad bitch in a Grand National
It's just politics, I'm taxing ya
You're like a grilled cheese, nigga, I'm smashing ya
You just a daddy boy, nigga, 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 nigga 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 pussy, 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

Correct these Lyrics