LETRA
Use A− / A+ para ajustar a leituraRange brothers (With Baby Keem)
Bad bitch, pardon me, I say, "What's up? Educated, so I put her in the cutI need a girlfriend, I need a girlfriendTwo hoes and I think I did too muchI got two phones and I don't know who to trustI need a girlfriend, I need a girlfriendBet that girlfriend lonely, introduce her to my humorIt's a lot of bitches that they sent home in their UberUh, high-profile niggas in my circle dodgin' rumorsI been tucked away dodgin' bless, duckin' maneuversHuh? Okay, you say you not readyOkay, okay, comin' in heavyOkay, they ain't in shape, I'm petty, okay, okayOkay, y'all be on E, un-leadyOkay, okay, hold the confettiOkay, okay, you say you not readyThey wanna bite the hand that try to feed them prudesYou cannot hidе behind the shades, I see right through itYou ain't stand up on your word, thеn you's a foolThey're not, chea, they're not, chea, they're not boolI be wanna see me whole gang on Tv, pg my RollieTurnin' out tops and the tall bitchesthat remind me of the old daysSneakin' in hoes with the backstage passWhat they all in, huh, for the poet? Huh?I'm a young poetin' nigga, I just go at it, niggaI'm a whore at it, niggaYou could ask my mama, we poetic, niggaI was raised in the projects, we could go at it, niggaI can't waste no time on a co-edded, niggaBro-code, me an' Dad count through seven figuresRaised around bottles and dope fiendsOn a high since the day I turned sixteen747, I'm starin' at plane wingsPrayin' the Lord's seen, Grandma prayin' for me (Ayy)Huh? Okay, you say you not readyOkay, okay, comin' in heavyOkay, they ain't in shape, I'm petty, okay, okayOkay, y'all be on E, un-leadyOkay, okay, hold the confettiOkay, okay, just say you not readyThey wanna bite the hand that try to feed them prudesYou cannot hide behind the shades, I see right through itYou ain't stand up on your word, then you's a foolThey're not, chea, they're not, chea, they're not boolEverybody wanna be greatbut the work don't relate him to lifeBe mistakin' the truth, niggaI remember bankin' with Chase, like four-hundred KStarin' at it, I don't know what to do, niggaNow I look at money like a resourceEvery contract gotta put my kid's family in schoolHealth and wealth, goin' deep for itdo right for my next lifeAnd he get some tooI remember roaches, momma lost focusI was at home, no lights, no foodHeard that the joke is, "Hykeem broken"Head to the ground when I walk in schoolGoin' through the motions, mad impulsiveGranny, I won't abide by the rulesI shall reside with advisers to boomFuck that, booman, let me get some tooLife ain't always about your name in they mouthAnd the cars and the clothes and the jewels (Jewels, oh)Every lil' bitch that's born looking like soft pornOnly meant for your ego to bruise (Bruise, oh)Bet when the hoes get bored and the points ain't scoreYou gone live in this world confused ('Fused, woo)Every day the hate restored and the faith get shortFuck that, let me get some tooNigga, my livelihood was understoodThat the roof I'm in not boolNigga, the shoes I fill are hugeKeem, wanna share that ho? Bro moveNigga wanna fake sneak diss'Cause I fucked his bitch in a black hatchbackI front in the pics when the heart don't matchTake care of the kids, gotta go where they at, ayyHold on, let's get this shit, let's get this shitLet's get this shit, let's, hmmTop 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 shit, let's get this shitLet'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, huhHer 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 gang (She's hot)Rover gang, Rover gang, Rover gang (Rover gang)Range brothers out the roofwe're not the Wayans (We're not the Wayans)Bitch, I hate to tell the truthwe're not the same (He's Baby Keem)I'm with my Rover brotherand we're runnin' game (A Range Rover)Whippin' rubber bands on the meatloafOverseas, tidy up for me 'fore I get homeTake one, take two, take three, heave itStop hidin' comments under your sleeve, nigga, believe itWhy your boyfriend keep on lookin' for me, is he Jesus?Let's get this shit, let's get this shitLet's get this shit, let's, hmmTop 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 shit, let's get this shitLet's get this shit, let's, hmm
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