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postmates - kayla nicole lyrics

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[chorus: kayla nicole & urban tee]
i’m a bad b*tch and i stamped it
these hoes sell they soul, ship them out to a fedex
he love when i would [?] so i spread it
i make ‘ha hit that holla but he home ’cause i fed it
and if he think he f*ckin’, hopes too high, imma next it
he think i like rich n*ggas, i’m like duh, but you guessed it
she jumpin’ d*ck to d*ck but got no funds, don’t respect it

[verse 1: urban tee]
when he l!ck his lips, he taste my chocolate, he lean
imma knock him off his feet ’cause i’m his baddest, baby, breathe (d*mn)
unless he takе me shoppin’, throw a fit for no reason (no reason)
know a n*gga nasty, hе would hit it while i’m bleedin’ (ay)

[verse 2: kayla nicole]
imma ride it, he gon’ hit it in the back ’cause i’m on go
bae, i’m red, but he so green, don’t give a f*ck about my flow
[?] b*tch, i’m like who home
he knock me up, i kick the door
stand on business, hit the floor
throwin’ fits, come catch yo ho
nicest coochie with the meanest mug, come sit me out my attitude (out my attitude)
b*tches act confused, but i’m the reason why he mad at you (ay)
[?] pop out on hoes like peek*a*boo
money callin’, that’s my cue
when i step, i make it move
[chorus: kayla nicole & urban tee]
i’m a bad b*tch and i stamped it
these hoes sell they soul, ship them out to a fedex
he love when i would [?] so i spread it
i make ‘ha hit that holla but he home ’cause i fed it
and if he think he f*ckin’, hopes too high, imma next it
he think i like rich n*ggas, i’m like duh, but you guessed it
she jumpin’ d*ck to d*ck but got no funds, don’t respect it
[?] not catch you slippin’, ’cause the bag, i collect it

[verse 3: urban tee]
she better not get smart, smack a b*tch who tryna test me
if a n*gga playin’ in my face, then just arrest me
keep my glockiana with me, that’s my [?] bestie
n*ggas always double back, they like “tee, why you left me?”
n*ggas wanna lay me down, can’t solve me like no puzzle
every time my b*tches wanna feud, then make ’em huddle
i just make her n*gga do the work, don’t move a muscle
smile i’m that b*tch, on his face i left a puddle (ah*ha)

[chorus: kayla nicole & urban tee]
i’m a bad b*tch and i stamped it
these hoes sell they soul, ship them out to a fedex
he love when i would [?] so i spread it
i make ‘ha hit that holla but he home ’cause i fed it
and if he think he f*ckin’, hopes too high, imma next it
he think i like rich n*ggas, i’m like duh, but you guessed it
she jumpin’ d*ck to d*ck but got no funds, don’t respect it
[?] better not catch you slippin’, ’cause the bag, i collect it

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