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Rick Ross - Trap Queen (Remix) Lyrics

Ft. FAT TREL

(Verse: Fat Trel)
Ok, I just got a trap queen, clap, cuz she a stripper too
All she do is fuck me and get money, that's what strippers do
Moppin' in the kitchen like this bitch was in the picture-boo
Photo shoot, ass fat, make it hard to look at you
Promises I got commas, got lamas on top of lamas
Choppa hit with extension, penny picture, no missin' (?!)
Barely fresh out the prison, pitchin' dick in the bitches
Actin' like I ain't worried, I'm eatin' with my attorney
Out in Jersey with pistol grips, gorillas and killa bitches
I'm drinkin' plenty liquor with dutches and philly swishas
I'm off fo' skrilla drilla, chill with the realest killas
I go where you can't, they let me fuck all their bitches
You can keep all the fame, I just want all the riches
I ship out all the rockets, I oversee the shipping
I see what we was missin', a nigga with no sense
I'm one of the few left, show me where the loose at
You rather just find me with all of the shootas and toolie roogas
I had a 25 when I was a middle-schooler
Sioux I'm rendezvousing, the night she caught it, B
I couldn't help but picture me fuckin' her instantly
I just want one chance, bet she'll remember me
I'm patient, I know wassup, let her nigga fuck it up
Gimme a couple week, I'll have her pickin' her duffles up
And wylin' in traffic in New York city like what the fuck?!
All in her gram, she poppin' up at the bando
Molly and Xans, I'm hoppin' that she let my man go
These bitches is everywhere, they're rockin' the camel
I only got one dick, but a lotta ammo

(Pre-Hook x2)
And I get high wit my baby, I just left the mall
I'm gettin' fly wit my baby, yeaah
And I can ride wit my baby
I be in the kitchen cooking pies wit my baby, yeaah

(Verse 2: Ross)
Straight from the pole, I wanna take that bitch home
Ate it like a pear, money raining on the flow
I ate it like a pear, 20 songs in a row
I ate it like a pear, had my 20 chains on
Her phone keep ringin' cuz that cookie off the hook
Every dope want it since I taught her how to cook
I took away the shock, gave you all the hottest looks
20 bands in a week with ____(?) that's for the kush
My trap queen, get it, you wag it, that's on the book
All that extra trust, one word, that's all it took
Shawty by my side, I give her my last lungs
She the only I know that already lost one
Shooters on craigslist, yo, click on some FEDs shit
Avoid you type o' niggas, still cold and careless
Put yo bitch on my team, sit back, watch her flourish
You big mouth hoes, we give 'em the fake purses

(Pre-Hook x2)

(Hook)
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 remix it fo' low
She my trap queen, let her hit the bando
We be countin' up, watch how far them bands go
We just had to go, talkin' bout yo Lambo
A 50-60 gram for 100 grams tho
Man, I swear I luv her, how she rip the damn pole
Hit the strip club, we be lettin' bands go
Everybody hatin', we just call 'em fans, tho
In luv with the money, I ain't neva let it go
 

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