Trap Queen taby ukulele według Fetty Wap

Verse 1:
                          Am
I'm like "hey, what's up, hello"
                Dm                          F
Seen yo pretty ass soon as you came in that door
              G                           Am
I just wanna chill, got a sack for us to roll
               Dm                           F
Married to the money, introduced her to my stove
                  G                             Am
Showed her how to whip it, now she remixin' for low
             F                       Dm
She my trap queen, let her hit the bando
               F                           Am
We be countin' up, watch how far them bands go
              Dm                      F
We just set a goal, talkin' matchin' Lambos
          G                      Am
Got 56 a gram, prob' a 100 grams though
                    Dm                         F
Man, I swear I love her how she work the damn pole
              G                         Am
Hit the strip club, we be letting bands go
           Dm                            F
Everybody hating, we just call them fans though
                  G                           Am
In love with the money, I ain't never letting go


Chorus: (x2)
          Dm
And I get high with my baby
F                                  G                    Am
I just left the mall, I'm getting fly with my baby, yeah
          Dm
And I can ride with my baby
F                            G                     Am
I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby, yeah


Verse 2:
           Am                            Dm                
I hit the strip with my trap queen cause all we know is bands
                 F                 G
I just might snatch a Ferrari and buy my boo a Lamb'
                 Am                        Dm
I might just snatch her necklace, drop a couple on a ring
            F                             G
She ain't want it for nothin' because I got her everything
           Am                        Dm
Bitch you up in the bando, without deniro can't go
       F                         G
Remi boys got extendo, count up hella dem bands tho
     Am
How far can your Benz go?
Dm                                  F              
Fetty Wap I'm living fifty thousand K how I stand tho
        G                         Am
If you checking out my pockets hol' up


Chorus: (x2)
          Dm
And I get high with my baby
F                                  G                    Am
I just left the mall, I'm getting fly with my baby, yeah
          Dm
And I can ride with my baby
F                            G                     Am
I be in the kitchen cooking pies with my baby, yeah


Verse 3:
              Am                                Dm
I be smoking dope and you know Backwoods what I roll
           G                            Am
Remy Boy, Fetty eating shit up that's fasho
               Dm                        F
Ill run in ya house, then I'll fuck your ho
                     G                           Am
Cause Remy Boyz or nothing, Re-Re-Remy Boyz or nothing


Dm F G