Postmates lyrics

[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 whip cream him on Captain D 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, b*tch you guessed it
She jumpin' di*k to di*k but got no funds, don't respect it

[Verse 1: Urban Tee]
When he lick his lips, he taste my chocolate, he leanin'
Imma knock him off his feet 'cause I'm his baddest b*tch breathin'
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]
Im a rider, 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
Ding dong b*tch, I'm like who home?
He knocked me up, I kick the door
Stand on bidness, sink the floor
Throwin' fits, come catch yo ho
Nicest coochie with the meanest mug, come sip me out my attitude (Out my attitude)
b*tches act confused, but I'm the reason why he mad at you (Ay)
[?] when I goose the fool, pop out on hoes like Peek-a-boo
Money callin', that's my cue
When I step, I make the news
[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' di*k to di*k 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 broke 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' di*k to di*k but got no funds, don't respect it
[?] better not catch you slippin', 'cause the bag, I collect it