Baby Keem & Kendrick Lamar – range brothers Lyrics

Baby Keem range brothers Lyrics, range brothers Lyrics Baby Keem

That bitch, pardon me I say “wassup”
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 hombre
That’s a lot of bitches that they sent home in their ombré
A high profile niggas in my circle dodging rumours
I been tucked away dodging bless, I can manoeuvres

Huh, okay, you say I’m not ready
Okay, okay, I’m comin’ in heavy
They ain’t in shape, I’m petty
Okay, okay
Okay y’all beyond me I’m [?]
Okay, okay, hold the confetti
Okay, okay, just say you’re not ready
They wanna bite the hand that try to feed ’em, prudes
You cannot hide behind the shades I see right through it
You ain’t stand up on you’re word, then you’s a fool
They’re not, they’re not, they’re not, fool

I be wanna see me whole gang on TV, PG my Rollie
Turnin’ out tops and the tall bitches
That remind me of the old days
Sneakin’ in hoes with the back stage pass
What they all in, huh, for the poet?
I’m a young poeting, nigga
I just go at it, nigga
I’m a whore at it, nigga
You could ask my Momma, we poetic, nigga
I was raised in the projects, we could go at it, nigga
I can’t wait no time on a coeded, nigga
Bro-code, me an’ Dad can’t do seven figures
Raised around bottles and dope fiends
On a high since the day I turned sixteen
Seven-fourty-seven, I’m staring at plane wings
I’m praying the Lord’s seen
Grandma prayin’ for me (Ey)

Huh, okay, just say you’re not ready
Okay, okay, I’m comin’ in heavy
Okay, I’m staying’ in shape, I’m petty
Okay, okay
Okay, y’all be on E, unleady
Okay, okay, hold the confetti
Okay, okay, just say you’re not ready
They wanna bite the hand that try to feed ’em, prudes
You cannot hide behind the shades I see right through it
You ain’t stand up on you’re word, then you is a fool
They’re not, they’re not, they’re not, fool

Everybody wanna be great but the word don’t relate him to life be mistakin’ the truth, nigga
I remember bankin’ we chased like four-hundred K, starin’ at it I don’t know what to do, nigga
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
An’ he get some too
I remember roaches
Momma lost focus
I was at home, no lights, no food
Heard that the joke is how Keem broken
Head to the ground when I walk in school
Goin’ through the motions, mad impulsive
Granny, I wanna abide by the rules
I shall reside with advisers to boom
Fuck 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, uh)
Every lil bitch that’s born looking like soft porn
Only meant for your ego to bruise (Bruise, uh)
Bet when the hoes get bored and the points ain’t score
You gone live in this world confused (Fused, uh)
Every day the hate restored and the faith get short
Fuck that, let me get some too
Nigga, my livelihood was understood that the roof I’m in not boo
Nigga, the shoes I fill are huge
Keem wanna share that hoe? bro move
Nigga wanna fake sneak diss cause I fucked his bitch
In a black hatch-back out front in a place where the heart don’t match
Take care of the kids gotta go where they at, ayy

Hold on, let’s get this shit, let’s get this shit
Let’s get this shit, let’s, hmm
Top o’ the mornin’, top o’ the mornin’, top o’ the mornin’
Top o’ the mornin’, top o’ the mornin’, top o’ the mornin’
Top o’ the mornin’
Hold on, let’s get this shit, let’s get this shit
Let’s get this shit, let’s, hmm (Like what these niggas on, like?)

Ain’t shit changed, still fuckin’ and rappin’
Two bad bitches here, Cartier glasses, huh
Her friend got pornography habits (Give me that bitch, but sir)
Rollie gang, rollie gang, rollie gang (PgLang, fool)
Hundred thousand on her
She know she game (She’s hot)
Rover gang, rover gang, rover gang (Rover gang)
Range brothers out the roof
We’re not the Wangs (We’re not the Wangs)
Bitch, I hate to tell the truth
We’re not the same (He’s Baby Keem)
I’m with my Rover brother
And we’re running games (They Range Rover)
Whipping rubber bands on the meat loaf
Over seas tidier for me, ‘fore I get home
Take one, take two, take three, heave it
Stop hidin’ comments on your sleeve, nigga, believe it
Why your boyfriend keep on lookin’ for me, is he Jesus?

Let’s get this shit, let’s get this shit
Let’s get this shit, let’s, hmm
Top o’ the mornin’, top o’ the mornin’, top o’ the mornin’
Top o’ the mornin’, top o’ the mornin’, top o’ the mornin’
Top o’ the mornin’
Hold on, let’s get this shit, let’s get this shit
Let’s get this shit, let’s, hmm