Return Lyrics & Tabs by Self Scientific
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1738
I'm like, "Hey, what up? Hello."
Seen your 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 countin' up, watch how fast them bands go
We just set a goal, talkin' matchin' Lambos
50, 60 grand, prob' a hundred grams though
Man, I swear she love it 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 ever letting go
And I get high with my baby
I just left them all, 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, now
And I get high with my baby
I just left them all, 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
Hit the strip with my trap queen 'cause all we know is bands
I might just snatch a ferrari and buy my boo a Lamb'
I might just snatch her a necklace, drop a couple on a ring
She ain't wanting for nothin' because I got her everything
And I'm up in the bando, without dinero can't go
Remy boys got the stamp though, count up hella them bands though
How far can your bands go?
Fetty Wap I'm living fifty thousand K how I stand though
If you checking for my pockets I'm like
Oh, I get high with my baby
I just left them all, 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, now
Oh, I get high with my baby
I just left them all, 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 like,
"Hello."
Seen your 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 countin' up, watch how fast them bands go
We just set a goal, talkin' matchin' Lambos
50, 60 grand, prob' a hundred grams though
Man, I swear she love it 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 ever letting go
I be smoking dope and you know Backwoods what I roll
Remy Boy, Fetty eating s*** up that's fasho
I'll run in ya house, then I'll f*** your hoe
Remy Boyz or nothing, Re-Re-Remy Boyz or...
Oh I get high with my baby
I just left them all, I'm getting fly with my baby, now
And I can ride with my baby
I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby, now, now, now
And I get high with my baby
I just left them all, I'm getting fly with my baby, now
And I can ride with my baby
I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby, now
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Got a sack for Esther Rowe
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