Back To Rap - Ard Adz, Stickz

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