paroles de chanson Trap Queen - Piano Dreamers
Remy
Boyz,
Yahhhhh
1738
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
56
a
gram,
prob'
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
(baby)
I
just
left
the
mall,
I'm
getting
fly
with
my
baby,
yeah
And
I
can
ride
with
my
baby
(baby)
I
be
in
the
kitchen
cooking
pies
with
my
baby,
yeah
And
I
get
high
with
my
baby
(baby)
I
just
left
the
mall,
I'm
getting
fly
with
my
baby,
yeah
And
I
can
ride
with
my
baby
(baby)
I
be
in
the
kitchen
cooking
pies
with
my
baby,
yeah
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
necklace,
drop
a
couple
on
a
ring
She
ain't
want
it
for
nothin'
because
I
got
her
everything
Bitch
you
up
in
the
bando,
without
deniro
can't
go
Remi
boys
got
extendo,
count
up
hella
bands
tho
How
far
can
your
Benz
go?
Fetty
Wap
I'm
living
fifty
thousand
K
how
I
stand
tho
If
you
checking
out
my
pockets
hol'
up
And
I
get
high
with
my
baby
(baby)
I
just
left
the
mall,
I'm
getting
fly
with
my
baby,
yeah
And
I
can
ride
with
my
baby
(baby)
I
be
in
the
kitchen
cooking
pies
with
my
baby,
yeah
And
I
get
high
with
my
baby
(baby)
I
just
left
the
mall,
I'm
getting
fly
with
my
baby,
yeah
And
I
can
ride
with
my
baby
(baby)
I
be
in
the
kitchen
cooking
pies
with
my
baby,
yeah
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,
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
I
be
smoking
dope
and
you
know
Backwoods
what
I
roll
Remy
Boy,
Fetty
eating
shit
up
that's
fasho
Ill
run
in
ya
house,
then
I'll
fuck
your
ho
'Cause
Remy
Boyz
are
nuttin',
Re-Re-Remy
Boyz
are
nuttin'
yea
u
hear
my
boy
sounding
like
a
zillion
bucks
on
a
track
1 See You Again
2 Shut Up and Dance
3 Girl Crush
4 Want to Want Me
5 Trap Queen
6 Earned It
7 Uptown Funk
8 Love Me Like You Do
9 Take Your Time
10 Honey, I'm Good
11 Chains
12 Dear Future Husband
13 Talking Body
14 Sugar
15 G.D.F.R.
16 Thinking Out Loud
17 Somebody
18 Worth It
19 Style
20 FourFiveSeconds
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