Ed Sheeran - Trap Queen (cover Fetty Wrap) live @Jimmy Fallon

Ed Sheeran - Trap Queen (cover Fetty Wrap) testo

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I'm like, "Hey, what's 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 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

A 50, 60 grand, prob' a hundred 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 ever letting go

And I get high with my baby

I just left the mall, I'm getting fly with my baby, yeah

And I get high with my baby

I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby, yeah

And I get high with my baby

I just left the mall, 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

I hit the strip with my trap queen 'cause all we know is bands

I just might snatch a 'Rari and buy my boo a Lamb'

I just might snatch her a necklace, drop a couple on a ring

She ain't wanting for nothin' because I got her everything

It's big Zoo Wap from the bando, without dinero can't go

Remy boys got the stamp, 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

And I get high with my baby

I just left the mall, 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

And I get high with my baby

I just left the mall, 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

I'm like, "Hey, what's 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 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

A 50, 60 grand, prob' a hundred 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 ever letting go

I be smoking dope and you know Backwoods what I roll

Remy Boy, Fetty eating shit up that's fasho

I'll run in ya house, then I'll fuck your hoe

'Cause Remy Boyz or nothing, Re-Re-Remy Boyz or nothing

And I get high with my baby

I just left the mall, I'm getting fly with my baby, yeah

And I get high with my baby

I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby, yeah

And I can ride with my baby

I just left the mall, 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

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