Range Brothers Lyrics - Baby Keem | Kendrick Lamar

[Part I]

Bad bi**h, 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 bi**hes that they sent home in their uber
Uh, high-profile ni**as in my circle dodging rumors
I been tucked away dodging bless, ducking maneuvers
[Part ii]

Huh? Okay, you say you not ready
Okay, okay, coming 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

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

I be wanna see me whole gang on tv, pg my rollie
Turning out tops and the tall bi**hes
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 poeting ni**a, I just go at it, ni**a
I’m a whore 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 and dad count through seven figures
Raised around bottles and dope fiends
On a high since the day I turned sixteen
747, I’m staring at plane wings
Praying the lord’s seen, grandma praying for me (aye)

Huh? Okay, you say you not ready
Okay, okay, coming 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

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

Everybody wanna be great
But the word don’t relate him to life
Be mistaking the truth, ni**a
I remember banking with chase, like 400k
Staring 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, going 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
F**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’ bi**h 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
F**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
‘cuz I f**ked his bi**h 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]

Hold on, let’s get this s**t, let’s get this s**t
Let’s get this s**t, let’s, hmm
Top of the morning, top of the morning
Top of the morning
Top of the morning, top of the morning
Top of the morning, top of the morning
Hold on, let’s get this s**t, let’s get this s**t
Let’s get this s**t, let’s, hmm!
Like what these ni**as on, like?

Ain’t s**t changed, still f**king and rapping
Two bad bi**hes here, cartier glasses, huh
Her friend got pornography habits
Give me that bi**h, 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)
Bi**h, 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 game
A range rover
Whipping rubber bands on the meatloaf
Overseas, tidy up for me before 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?

Let’s get this s**t, let’s get this s**t
Let’s get this s**t, let’s, hmm
Top of the morning, top of the morning
Top of the morning
Top of the morning, top of the morning
Top of the morning, top of the morning
Hold on, let’s get this s**t, let’s get this s**t
Let’s get this s**t, let’s, hmm!