Lyrics Back To Rap - Ard Adz, Stickz

Back To Rap

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 the .22
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 habits
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 habits
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