Lirik Lagu Trap Queen - FETTY WAP

Lirik Lagu Trap Queen - FETTY WAP - Kumpulan Lirik Lagu Indonesia & Dunia

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  • Lirik Lagu Trap Queen - FETTY WAP
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    Lirik Lagu Trap Queen, Penyanyi: FETTY WAP



    RGF productionRemy Boyz, yeah1738
    I'm like, "Hey, what's up? Hello."Seen your pretty ass soon as you came in the 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' LambosA 50, 60 grand, prob' a hundred 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 ever letting go
    And I get high with my babyI just left the mall, I'm getting fly with my baby, yeahAnd I can ride with my babyI be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby, yeahAnd I can ride with my babyI just left the mall, I'm getting fly with my baby, yeahAnd I can ride with my babyI be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby
    (I'm like, "Hey, what's up? Hello.")
    I hit the strip with my trap queen 'cause all we know is bandsI just might snatch a 'Rari and buy my boo a Lamb'I just might snatch her a necklace, drop a couple on a ringShe ain't wanting for nothin' because I got her everythingIt's big Zoo Wap from the bando, without dinero can't goRemy boys got the stamp, count up hella them bands thoughHow far can your bands go?Fetty Wap I'm living fifty thousand K how I stand thoughIf you checking for my pockets I'm like
    And I get high with my babyI just left the mall, I'm getting fly with my baby, yeahAnd I can ride with my babyI be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby, yeahAnd I can ride with my babyI just left the mall, I'm getting fly with my baby, yeahAnd I can ride with my babyI be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby
    I'm like, "Hey, what's up? Hello."Seen your pretty ass soon as you came in the 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' LambosA 50, 60 grand, prob' a hundred 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 ever letting go
    I 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 hoe'Cause Remy Boyz or nothing, Re-Re-Remy Boyz or nothing
    Yeah, you hear my boySounding like a zillion bucks on a trackI got whatever on my boy, whateverPut your money where your mouth isMoney on the wood make the game go goodMoney outta sight cause fightsPut up or shut upUh, NittdagritRGF productionsS-quad


    • Berdasar Abjad : F

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