Ard Adz, Stickz - Back To Rap lyrics
Ard Adz
[Ard Adz, Stickz - Back To Rap lyrics]
I'm a Brixton boy brudda
And I come up with my Brixton boy bruddas
Man's boys bruddas
I got seven in the weapon if your boy run up
Road's cold, nuttin' we ain't new to
I got a little juice in me
But don't make me juice you
Big teet' or little teet'
I do it with the22
I got God on my side, I don't need juju
We don't fuck with voodoo
I got a shotty by my side
But I like a deuce-deuce
He was all gassed, dissing man on YouTube
Now the doc's gloving up 'cause
He gotta tube you
They will have to tube you and
You ain't even on that
It's long akh
I bought my Rambo to cut the combat
I'm from that, where bruddas dead
You gotta pour a Cognac
And one thing I never cared about
Was where you're from akh
I know Stizz way before a throwback
Know that
There's more teeth
We're emptying the whole strap
So mad
Bruddas die you gotta pour the 'ognac
And one thing I never cared about
Was who you know akh
I'm a Brixton boy brudda
And I come up with my Brixton boy bruddas
Ain't a cannibal ting but I'll cook a man
You can tell it's real rap
When you look at man
Used to bang before the paper
But that's old habit's
I learnt you can't go-go without no gadgets
I knew them man there before
They ain't no savage
I'm tryna fly out with a
Bird that's got no baggage
Used to bang before the paper
But that's old habit's
I'll split his whole cabbage
Like an old marriage
I know them man before, they had no status
All this Latin gyal are thinking
That I know Spanish
You want this chain on my neck?
You're gonna have to shoot me
You want this cab fare, owe me
Gonna have to do me
Cars roomy, spent cheese
I had to stack halloumi
Man's looney, no cheese with this macaroni
You want this watch on my wrist?
You're gonna have to shoot me
You want this chain on his neck?
You're gonna have to shoot us
Judas, get shot with the macaroni
She's fruity plus she got a backaroni
Ain't a cannibal ting but I'll cook a man
You can tell it's real rap
When you look at man
That's why the bully van tryna bully man
Obbo got a man scared like the boogeyman
I'm a Brixton boy brudda
And I come up with my Brixton boy bruddas
Ain't a cannibal ting but I'll cook a man
You can tell it's real rap
When you look at man
I see the trap looking mad seducive
Got a brucky in the ends
It look mad exclusive
Bruddas want war, I got a mad solution
Put a burner in the A
It's from Massachusetts
New ting, I let it scan today
Gang got your homie and you
Feel some kind of way
What I done for the streets
I ain't the type to say
Only time I'm getting on my knees
Is when it's time to pray
I was sleeping on my life
Now I'm wide awake
I was in the trap
I saw racks in the microwave
I told Stizz we ain't got time to waste
And I come up with my Brixton boy bruddas
Man's boys bruddas
I got seven in the weapon if your boy run up
Road's cold, nuttin' we ain't new to
I got a little juice in me
But don't make me juice you
Big teet' or little teet'
I do it with the22
I got God on my side, I don't need juju
We don't fuck with voodoo
I got a shotty by my side
But I like a deuce-deuce
He was all gassed, dissing man on YouTube
Now the doc's gloving up 'cause
He gotta tube you
They will have to tube you and
You ain't even on that
It's long akh
I bought my Rambo to cut the combat
I'm from that, where bruddas dead
You gotta pour a Cognac
And one thing I never cared about
Was where you're from akh
I know Stizz way before a throwback
Know that
There's more teeth
We're emptying the whole strap
So mad
Bruddas die you gotta pour the 'ognac
And one thing I never cared about
Was who you know akh
I'm a Brixton boy brudda
And I come up with my Brixton boy bruddas
Ain't a cannibal ting but I'll cook a man
You can tell it's real rap
When you look at man
Used to bang before the paper
But that's old habit's
I learnt you can't go-go without no gadgets
I knew them man there before
They ain't no savage
I'm tryna fly out with a
Bird that's got no baggage
Used to bang before the paper
But that's old habit's
I'll split his whole cabbage
Like an old marriage
I know them man before, they had no status
All this Latin gyal are thinking
That I know Spanish
You want this chain on my neck?
You're gonna have to shoot me
You want this cab fare, owe me
Gonna have to do me
Cars roomy, spent cheese
I had to stack halloumi
Man's looney, no cheese with this macaroni
You want this watch on my wrist?
You're gonna have to shoot me
You want this chain on his neck?
You're gonna have to shoot us
Judas, get shot with the macaroni
She's fruity plus she got a backaroni
Ain't a cannibal ting but I'll cook a man
You can tell it's real rap
When you look at man
That's why the bully van tryna bully man
Obbo got a man scared like the boogeyman
I'm a Brixton boy brudda
And I come up with my Brixton boy bruddas
Ain't a cannibal ting but I'll cook a man
You can tell it's real rap
When you look at man
I see the trap looking mad seducive
Got a brucky in the ends
It look mad exclusive
Bruddas want war, I got a mad solution
Put a burner in the A
It's from Massachusetts
New ting, I let it scan today
Gang got your homie and you
Feel some kind of way
What I done for the streets
I ain't the type to say
Only time I'm getting on my knees
Is when it's time to pray
I was sleeping on my life
Now I'm wide awake
I was in the trap
I saw racks in the microwave
I told Stizz we ain't got time to waste