Rick Ross - Trap Queen (Remix) lyrics

rate me

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