|
|
| Line 1: |
Line 1: |
| <center>I'm like "Hey, what's up? Hello"
| | ee |
| Seen your 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 remixing for low
| |
| She my trap queen, let her hit the bando
| |
| We be counting up, watch how far them bands go
| |
| We just set a goal, talking matching 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 letting go
| |
| | |
| And I get high with my baby
| |
| I just left the mall, I'm getting fly with my baby, yeah
| |
| And I can ride with my baby
| |
| I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby, yeah
| |
| And I can ride with my baby
| |
| I just left the mall, I'm getting fly with my baby, yeah
| |
| And I can ride with my baby
| |
| I be in the kitchen cooking pies
| |
| | |
| I'm like, "Hey, what's up? Hello"
| |
| | |
| 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 wanting for nothing 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 living fifty thousand K how I stand though
| |
| 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, yeah
| |
| And I can ride with my baby
| |
| I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby, yeah
| |
| And I can ride with my baby
| |
| I just left the mall, I'm getting fly with my baby, yeah
| |
| And I can ride with my baby
| |
| I be in the kitchen cooking pies
| |
| | |
| 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 remixing for low
| |
| She my trap queen, let her hit the bando
| |
| We be counting up, watch how far them bands go
| |
| We just set a goal, talking matching 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 letting go
| |
| | |
| I be smoking dope and you know Backwoods what I roll
| |
| Remy Boyz, Fetty eating shit up, that's fasho
| |
| I'll run in ya house, then I'll fuck your hoe
| |
| 'Cause Remy Boyz or nothing
| |
| Re-Re-Remy Boyz or nothing
| |
| | |
| | |
| (She my trap queen)
| |
| Yeah, you hear my boy
| |
| (She my trap queen)
| |
| Sounding 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?</center>
| |
