Baby Keem - Range Brothers lyrics

[Part I] [Verse: Baby Keem] Bad b*tch, pardon me, I say, "What's up?” Educated, so I put her in the cut I need a girlfriend, I need a girlfriend Two hoes and I think I did too much I got two phones and I don't know who to trust I need a girlfriend, I need a girlfriend Bet that girlfriend lonely, introduce her to my humor It's a lot of b*tches that they sent home in their Uber Uh, high-profile ni**as in my circle dodgin' rumors I been tucked away dodgin' bless, duckin' maneuvers [Part II] [Chorus: Baby Keem] Huh? Okay, you say you not ready Okay, okay, comin' in heavy Okay, they ain't in shape, I'm petty, okay, okay Okay, y'all be on E, un-leady Okay, okay, hold the confetti Okay, okay, you say you not ready [Post-Chorus: Baby Keem] They wanna bite the hand that try to feed them prudes You cannot hidе behind the shades, I see right through it You ain't stand up on your word, thеn you's a fool They're not, chea, they're not, chea, they're not bool [Verse 1: Baby Keem] I be wanna see me whole gang on TV, pg my Rollie Turnin' out tops and the tall b*tches, that remind me of the old days Sneakin' in hoes with the backstage pass What they all in, huh, for the poet? Huh? I'm a young poetin' ni**a, I just go at it, ni**a I'm a who*e at it, ni**a You could ask my mama, we poetic, ni**a I was raised in the projects, we could go at it, ni**a I can't waste no time on a co-edded, ni**a Bro-code, me an' Dad count through seven figures Raised around bottles and dope fiends On a high since the day I turned sixteen 747, I'm starin' at plane wings Prayin' the Lord's seen, Grandma prayin' for me (Ayy) [Chorus: Baby Keem] Huh? Okay, you say you not ready Okay, okay, comin' in heavy Okay, they ain't in shape, I'm petty, okay, okay Okay, y'all be on E, un-leady Okay, okay, hold the confetti Okay, okay, just say you not ready [Post-Chorus: Baby Keem] They wanna bite the hand that try to feed them prudes You cannot hide behind the shades, I see right through it You ain't stand up on your word, then you's a fool They're not, chea, they're not, chea, they're not bool [Verse 2: Kendrick Lamar & Baby Keem] Everybody wanna be great but the work don't relate him to life Be mistakin' the truth, ni**a I remember bankin' with Chase, like four-hundred K Starin' at it, I don't know what to do, ni**a Now I look at money like a resource Every contract gotta put my kid's family in school Health and wealth, goin' deep for it, do right for my next life And he get some too I remember roaches, momma lost focus I was at home, no lights, no food Heard that the joke is, "Hykeem broken" Head to the ground when I walk in school Goin' through the motions, mad impulsive Granny, I won't abide by the rules I shall reside with advisers to boom fu*k that, booman, let me get some too Life ain't always about your name in they mouth And the cars and the clothes and the jewels (Jewels, oh) Every lil' b*tch that's born looking like soft porn Only meant for your ego to bruise (Bruise, oh) Bet when the hoes get bored and the points ain't score You gone live in this world confused ('Fused, woo) Every day the hate restored and the faith get short fu*k that, let me get some too ni**a, my livelihood was understood That the roof I'm in not bool ni**a, the shoes I fill are huge Keem, wanna share that ho? Bro move ni**a wanna fake sneak diss 'Cause I fu*ked his b*tch in a black hatchback I front in the pics when the heart don't match Take care of the kids, gotta go where they at, ayy [Part III] [Chorus: Kendrick Lamar] Hold on, let's get this sh*t, let's get this sh*t Let's get this sh*t, let's, hmm Top of the mornin', top of the mornin', top of the mornin' Top of the mornin', top of the mornin' Top of the mornin', top of the mornin' Hold on, let's get this sh*t, let's get this sh*t Let's get this sh*t, let's, hmm (Like what these ni**as on, like?) [Verse: Baby Keem & Kendrick Lamar] Ain't sh*t changed, still fu*kin' and rappin' Two bad b*tches here, Cartier glasses, huh Her friend got pornography habits (Give me that b*tch, but, sir) Rollie gang, Rollie gang, Rollie gang (pgLang, fool) Hundred thousand on her, she know she gang (She's hot) Rover gang, Rover gang, Rover gang (Rover gang) Range brothers out the roof, we're not the Wayans (We're not the Wayans) b*tch, I hate to tell the truth, we're not the same (He's Baby Keem) I'm with my Rover brother and we're runnin' game (A Range Rover) Whippin' rubber bands on the meatloaf Overseas, tidy up for me 'fore I get home Take one, take two, take three, heave it Stop hidin' comments under your sleeve, ni**a, believe it Why your boyfriend keep on lookin' for me, is he Jesus? [Chorus: Kendrick Lamar] Let's get this sh*t, let's get this sh*t Let's get this sh*t, let's, hmm Top of the mornin', top of the mornin', top of the mornin' Top of the mornin', top of the mornin' Top of the mornin', top of the mornin' Hold on, let's get this sh*t, let's get this sh*t Let's get this sh*t, let's, hmm