Ard Adz - Home Freestyle lyrics

Home is where the heart is at
I was watching Art Attack when
Nanny had a heart attack
Same time, thinking "where my father at?"
Pissed little kid touching wigs
Like barbers akh
You know it's gully in the Gaza akh
Bro got the skully in the Prada bag
Mill said he's stepping so our
Step is one harder akh
I could push their head back
With one harder akh
Big dreams, started with a quarter akh
In the field, I got busy like a quarterback
Snitching on the gang
I've never thought of that
The only thing I've ever
Signed was an autograph
You know my life's been a mosh-pit
It's crazy in the dunya and
I'm feeling like a hostage
I moved out the ends becah I clocked it
I couldn't find freedom in the
Same place I lost it
I load it up then I cocked it
Man locked the doors on me akh
But I've got this
I've got drive and I'm on shit
When man locked the doors on me akh
I turned locksmith
It's locked and I cocked it
Married to the streets and
That pain came adopted
I see murder like death
It's deep so I sleep with
The burner like Steff
Home is where the heart is at
I was watching Art Attack when
Nanny had a heart attack
I love the roads but I can't attach
If my darg clamps you down
It's like a shark attack
See this hood look
Blud it ain't a good look
Mama mad stressed again
She's burning out the couscous
I hit the road with my dusdus
We was on them pushbikes thinking
We was Suge Knight
Are you a man or a mouse?
I was eight when Mum said "you're
The man of the house"
I started hanging around
I started slanging around
Touched the road in Year 10 with
Something mad in my pouch
Should've spent more time being a boy
Dirty's been broke
He's never been employed
Bought a little pack and I flipped that
That little money bought me back
I was redeployed
Hear the wap banging, won't see the toy
Do it for my hustlers, they need a voice
Do it for my strugglers, they need a choice
Need a pair of lungs, I don't need a Royce
We're them known outlaws
They say we love the roads
And our home's outdoors
If you've never rapped
I won't know that block
There's bare guns on my block
It's like a load-out drop
So don't ask why I'm beefing
You stab me in the back and
Then ask where I'm bleeding
I've got beef in the
Place where I'm sleeping
Bruddas can't take this air
That I'm breathing
I'm no angel, blud I'm no Buddha
Out here doing jugga
Should've been in Jummah
All the stress that I put upon my Ummah
I might have run the roads
And for that it's Alhamdulillah