Remy Boyz, yeah
1738

[Verse 1:]
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
Got 50, 60 grand,
five 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

[Hook:]
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 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

(I'm like, "Hey,
what's up? Hello.")

[Verse 2:]
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 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

(I'm like, "Hey,
what's up? Hello.")

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
Got 50, 60 grand,
five 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

[Outro:]
Yeah, you hear my boy
Sounding like a
zillion bucks on a track
I got whatever
on my boy, whatever
Put your money
where your mouth is
Money on the wood
make the game go good
Money outta sight cause fights
Put up or shut up
Uh, Nittdagrit
RGF productions
S-quad