Trap Queen

                          Em
I'm like "hey, what's up, hello"
                Am                 
Seen yo pretty ass soon as you came
         C
 in that door
              D                    
I just wanna chill, got a sack for 
       Em
us to roll
               Am                  
Married to the money, introduced 
         C
her to my stove
                  D                
Showed her how to whip it, now she 
             Em
remixin' for low
             C                     
She my trap queen, let her hit the 
  Am
bando
               C                
We be countin' up, watch how far 
           Em
them bands go
              Am                   
We just set a goal, talkin' 
   C
matchin' Lambos
          D                      
Got 56 a gram, prob' a 100 grams 
Em
though
                    Am             
Man, I swear I love her how she 
            C
work the damn pole
              D                  
Hit the strip club, we be letting 
       Em
bands go
           Am                      
Everybody hating, we just call them
      C
 fans though
                  D            
In love with the money, I ain't 
               Em
never letting go

          Am
And I get high with my baby
C                               
I just left the mall, I'm getting 
   D                    Em
fly with my baby, yeah
          Am
And I can ride with my baby
C                            D   
I be in the kitchen cooking pies 
                  Em
with my baby, yeah

          Am
And I get high with my baby
C                               
I just left the mall, I'm getting 
   D                    Em
fly with my baby, yeah
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          Am
And I can ride with my baby
C                            D   
I be in the kitchen cooking pies 
                  Em
with my baby, yeah

           Em                      
I hit the strip with my trap queen 
      Am
cause all we know is bands
                 C               
I just might snatch a Ferrari and 
  D
buy my boo a Lamb'
                 Em              
I might just snatch her necklace, 
          Am
drop a couple on a ring
            C                
She ain't want it for nothin' 
             D
because I got her everything
           Em                      
Bitch you up in the bando, without 
  Am
deniro can't go
       C                       
Remi boys got extendo, count up 
  D
hella dem bands tho
     Em
How far can your Benz go?
Am                                
Fetty Wap I'm living fifty 
  C
thousand K how I stand tho
        D                         
If you checking out my pockets hol' 
Em
up

          Am
And I get high with my baby
C                               
I just left the mall, I'm getting 
   D                    Em
fly with my baby, yeah
          Am
And I can ride with my baby
C                            D   
I be in the kitchen cooking pies 
                  Em
with my baby, yeah

          Am
And I get high with my baby
C                               
I just left the mall, I'm getting 
   D                    Em
fly with my baby, yeah
          Am
And I can ride with my baby
C                            D   
I be in the kitchen cooking pies 
                  Em
with my baby, yeah

                          Em
I'm like "hey, what's up, hello"
                Am                 
Seen yo pretty ass soon as you came
         C
 in that door
              D                    
I just wanna chill, got a sack for 
       Em
us to roll
               Am                  
Married to the money, introduced 
         C
her to my stove
                  D                
Showed her how to whip it, now she 
             Em
remixin' for low
             C                     
She my trap queen, let her hit the 
  Am
bando
               C                
We be countin' up, watch how far 
           Em
them bands go
              Am                   
We just set a goal, talkin' 
   C
matchin' Lambos
          D                      
Got 56 a gram, prob' a 100 grams 
Em
though
                    Am             
Man, I swear I love her how she 
            C
work the damn pole
              D                  
Hit the strip club, we be letting 
       Em
bands go
           Am                      
Everybody hating, we just call them
      C
 fans though
                  D            
In love with the money, I ain't 
               Em
never letting go

              Em              
I be smoking dope and you know 
                  Am
Backwoods what I roll
           D                  
Remy Boy, Fetty eating shit up 
          Em
that's fasho
               Am                  
Ill run in ya house, then I'll fuck
      C
 your ho
                     D     
Cause Remy Boyz or nothing, 
                      Em
Re-Re-Remy Boyz or nothing

[Final]  Am  C  D