Тональность: A minor•
Intro 1
(RGF Productions)
Am
Em
Am
Em
Remy Boyz, yeah
Am
Em
F
C
1738, ayy
Verse 1
Am
I'm like, "hey, what's up, hello"
Em
Seen yo pretty ass soon as
Am
you came in the door
Em
I just wanna chill, got
Am
a sack for us to roll
Em
Married to the money,
F
introduced her to my stove
C
Showed her how to whip it,
Am
now she remix it for low
Em
She my trap queen,
Am
let her hit the bando
Em
We be counting up,
Am
watch how far them bands go
Em
We just set a goal,
F
talking matching lambos
Am
5 a hundred grams though
Em
Man, I swear I love her how
Am
she work that damn pole
Em
Hit the strip club,
Am
we be letting bands go
Em
Everybody hating,
F
we just call them fans though
C
In love with the money,
Chorus 1
Am
I ain't never letting go
G
Em
And I get high with my baby
Am
I just left the mall
G
Em
Am
I'm getting fly with my baby, yeah
G
Em
And I can ride with my baby
Dm
I'll be in the kitchen
C
Am
cooking pies with my baby, yeah
G
Em
And I can ride with my baby
Am
I just left the mall
G
Em
Am
I'm getting fly with my baby, yeah
G
Em
And I can ride with my baby
Dm
C
I'll be in the kitchen cooking pies
Verse 2
Am
Em
I hit the strip with my trap queen
'cause all we know is biz
Am
I just might snatch up a 'Rari
Em
and buy my boo a Lamb'
Am
I might just snatch her a necklace,
Em
drop a couple on a ring
F
She ain't wantin' for nothin'
C
because I got her everything
Am
It's Big ZooWap from the bando,
Em
remind me where I can't go
Am
Remy Boyz got the stamp though,
Em
count up hella them bands though
Am
Boy, how far can your bands go?
Em
F
Fetty Wap, I'm living fifty thousand K,
how I stand tho
C
If you checking for my pockets,
Chorus 2
Am
G
Em
I'm like and I get high with my baby
Am
I just left the mall
G
Em
Am
I'm getting fly with my baby, yeah
G
Em
And I can ride with my baby
Dm
I'll be in the kitchen
C
Am
cooking pies with my baby, yeah
G
Em
And I can ride with my baby
Am
I just left the mall
G
Em
Am
I'm getting fly with my baby, yeah
G
Em
And I can ride with my baby
Dm
C
I'll be in the kitchen cooking pies
Verse 3
Am
I'm like, "hey, what's up, hello"
Em
Seen yo pretty ass soon as
Am
you came in the door
Em
I just wanna chill, got
Am
a sack for us to roll
Em
Married to the money,
F
introduced her to my stove
C
Showed her how to whip it,
Am
now she remix it for low
Em
She my trap queen,
Am
let her hit the bando
Em
We be counting up,
Am
watch how far them bands go
Em
We just set a goal,
F
talking matching lambos
Am
5 a hundred grams though
Em
Man, I swear I love her how
Am
she work that damn pole
Em
Hit the strip club,
Am
we be letting bands go
Em
Dm
we just call them fans though
C
In love with the money,
Verse 4
Am
I ain't never letting go
Em
I be smoking dope
Am
and you know Backwoods what I roll
Em
Am
Remy Boy Fetty eating shit up, that's for sure
G
Em
Dm
I'll run in your house, then I'll fuck your ho
C
Re- Remy Boyz or nothin',
Am
Re-Re-Remy Boyz or nothin
G
Em
Am
G
Yeah, you hear my boy
Em
Am
G
Soundin' like a zillion bucks on the track
Em
Dm
C
I got whatever my boy, whatever
Am
G
Put your money where your mouth is
Em
Money on the wood
Am
G
make the game go good
Em
Am
Money out of sight cause fights
G
Em
Dm
Put up or shut up, huh?
C
Dm
Nitt Da Gritt, huh,
Dm
C
Squad
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