When life gives you lemons, why not demand a million-dollar lemonade stand, complete with trap beats and a fast lane lifestyle? City Girls are back with a high-octane anthem celebrating empowerment and luxury. Channeling their inner rap stars, they sashayed past mediocrity, hunting for a trap king with NASCAR flair. These ladies don’t just break hearts—they break bank accounts, turning romance into a profitable side hustle. With razor-sharp wit and unapologetic attitude, they flaunt independence, asserting that nothing in life is free and there’s no time for naysayers. The track's catchy hook is a bold reminder: Real girls get down to business. Whether they’re claiming pole position on the dance floor or leaving love-struck admirers in their gleaming taillights, it’s clear that the City Girls are in the driver’s seat, and they’ve got their engines roaring—which, frankly, isn’t up for negotiation.
Trap Star
Lyrics
(Murda on the beat, so it's not nice)
I got that million-dollar pussy (yeah)
And a million-dollar nigga (yeah)
Got a million-dollar budget (yeah)
Fuck him right, it could get bigger (ow)
Rich niggas in the building ready to spend that shit
And I ain't tryna miss out worrying 'bout now hating ass bitch (period)
I'm looking for a trap star (trap star)
To pull up in that foreign
That's a NASCAR (skrt, skrt)
To these little bitches, I'm a rap star (rap star)
I fuck him 'til he broke
Then take the cast off (cast off)
And then I dash off, that's law
Once I bend it over, lil' bitches over (told y'all)
Got your nigga in the back with his hands all over (woo)
Real girls get down on the floor (yeah)
Baby, why you staring?
'Cause you know you want a ho
Real girls get down on the floor (yeah)
Baby, why you staring?
'Cause you know you want a ho
I'm looking for a trap star (trap star)
To pull up in that foreign
That's a NASCAR (skrt, skrt)
To these little bitches I'm a rap star (rap star)
I fuck him 'til he broke
Then take the cast off (cast off)
And then I dash off, that's law
Ask yo' nigga, do he love Resha?
Where the d-boys at?
Let a real bitch trap with 'cha (where they at)
I know them hoes be hating, but I don't fuck with 'em
His money looking funny
On to another nigga (period)
Different foreign's outside, all push-start
Get what I want out these niggas, then I cut 'em off (bye)
'Cause you know it ain't shit free
And plus a bitch got options
All these niggas wanna fuck me
Breaking bread, I'm on that dick just like a NASCAR (ow)
Let him touch it in the wraith so I can see the stars
Bitch, we cut different, not the same cloth (at all)
Let him eat it, when he hungry he got a lockjaw (period)
Real girls get down on the floor (yeah)
Baby, why you staring?
'Cause you know you want a ho
Real girls get down on the floor (yeah)
Baby, why you staring?
'Cause you know you want a ho
I'm lookin' for a trap star (trap star)
To pull up in that foreign
That's a NASCAR (skrt, skrt)
To these little bitches I'm a rap star (rap star)
I fuck him 'til he broke
Then take the cast off (cast off)
And then I dash off, that's law
Writer(s): Daviar Daly, Jatavia Johnson, Nasir Moore, Rasool Ricardo Diaz, Salvador Majail, Shane Lindstrom
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Songtrust Ave, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
What is the Meaning of Trap Star
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