Ard Adz

Home Freestyle
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 Letras de cancionesI 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 From Letras Mania