trap queen freestyle
RGF productions
Remy Boyz, yeaahhhh
1738
I'm like "Hey, what's up, hello"
Seen your pretty ass soon as you came in the door
I just want to 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
56 a gram, 5 100 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 rob with my baby
I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby, yeah
And I can rob with my baby
I just left the mall
I'm getting fly with my baby, yeah
And I can rob with my baby
I be in the kitchen cooking pies
I'm like "Hey, what's up, hello"
That's my trap queen
That's a nigga dream ho
After she gave me head
She asked me am I single
Threw her the pocket rocket
That bitch got the beam though
Fucked 5 Glizzys in a row
That's why I call her bingo
And I get high with your baby
Nigga we not beefing
Or its bye for your babies
And I get fly with your baby
We be all in Neimans
Oh, she tired of going to Macy's
She say, "Jefe, My dear, you're the trapper of the year!"
Hit me baby one more time
Ooh, she got that Britney Spears
Keep that chopper at her house
And she don't touch it because she's scared
And I call her every time I got to bust a nigga head
My trap queen
Keep her out the rap scene
She had a Maxima
I think her name was Maxine
Her daddy shoot the dope
That ain't no fucking vaccine
I used to serve his ass before I did the rap thing
And I get high with my baby
I just left the mall
I'm getting fly with my baby, yeah
And I can rob with my baby
I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby, yeah
And I can rob with my baby
I just left the mall
I'm getting fly with my baby, yeah
And I can rob with my baby
I be in the kitchen cooking pies
I'm like "Hey, what's up, hello"
I'm like "Hey, what's up, hello"
Seen your pretty ass soon as you came in the door
I just want to 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
56 a gram, 5 100 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