Trap Queen (Remix) lyrics - Fetty Wap (feat. Azealia Banks, Quavo & Gucci Mane)

[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 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

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

[Chorus:]

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 gettin' fly with my baby, yeah

And I can ride with my baby

I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby

[Verse 1 - Azealia:]

She came whipping that cake for the hustle

Ey, she cooking that steak in the oven

Got by the side she can bake by the dozen

Give a shake to the bitches in front, it's nothing

Lambo, bomb shell, miss who mix well

Fish scale, hopping out that V-12, this female

All about them eagles

Queen flips, I'm on freak out

She sells seashells, hydro with that pyro

Getting money, getting it right though

That white flow

Light, though

Bobby got his eyes low

Ready for that pop, though

Is that so?

For that... flow

We got drugs, you got us

And I get high with my baby

I'm a be the one that will ride or die with ya baby

Yeah, and I'm a slide for ya baby

I just wanna get a number one with ya baby, yeah

[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 tree

Fuck I mean

I'm a keep my

Hit your spleen

Count my money with machine

Now you should know

Oh, now you should know

With a bad bitch and 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

Macaroni, boy, you're only blinding me

And I told the squad like every nigga signed to me

[Chorus]

[Verse 3 - Quavo:]

I'm like hey, what's up, hello

I met you in the kitchen whipping in a bando

And I'm a need you to cook a baby

And when you cook that baby, I'm a buy you a Mercedes

Look at the thighs on her

Oh, I wanna ride on her

And we in a coupe going 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 yeah

[Chorus]