Remy Boys
Yea
1738
I'm like hey, what's up, hello
Seen your pretty ass soon as you came in the door
I just want to 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 it for low
She my trap queen, let her hit the bando
We be countin up
Watch how far them bandz go
We just set a goal, talkin matchin Lambo's
Got 50, 60 grand, five 100 grams tho
Man I swear I love her
How she work the damn pole
Hit the strip club
How we let the bandz go
Everybody hatin we just call them fans tho
In love with the money
I aint never lettin go
And I get high with my baby
I just left the mall, gettin fly with my baby
Yea
And I can ride with my baby
I be in the kitchen cookin pies with my baby
Yea
And I get high with my baby
I just left the mall, gettin fly with my baby
Yea
And I can ride with my baby
I be in the kitchen cookin pies with my baby
I'm like hey, what's up, hello
Seen your pretty ass soon as you came in the door
I just want to 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 it for low
She my trap queen, let her hit the bando
We be countin up
Watch how far them bandz go
We just set a goal, talkin matchin Lambo's
Got 50, 60 grand, five 100 grams tho
Man I swear I love her
How she work the damn pole
Hit the strip club
How we let the bandz go
Everybody hatin we just call them fans tho
In love with the money
I aint never lettin go
I be smokin dope
And you know backwoods what I roll
Remy Boy, Fetty eatin shit up fasho
I'll run in yo house then Ill fuck yo hoe
Cause Remy Boys or nothin
Re-Re-Remy Boys or nothin
And I get high with my baby
I just left the mall, gettin fly with my baby
Yea
And I can ride with my baby
I be in the kitchen cookin pies with my baby
Yea
And I get high with my baby
I just left the mall, gettin fly with my baby
Yea
And I can ride with my baby
I be in the kitchen cookin pies with my baby
I'm like hey, what's up, hello
Seen your pretty ass soon as you came in the door
I just want to 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 it for low
She my trap queen, let her hit the bando
We be countin up
Watch how far them bandz go
We just set a goal, talkin matchin Lambo's
Got 50, 60 grand, five 100 grams tho
Man I swear I love her
How she work the damn pole
Hit the strip club
How we let the bandz go
Everybody hatin we just call them fans tho
In love with the money
I aint never lettin go
I be smokin dope
And you know backwoods what I roll
Remy Boy, Fetty eatin shit up fasho
I'll run in yo house then Ill fuck yo hoe
Cause Remy Boys or nothin
Re-Re-Remy Boys or nothin
