ard adz – fanta lyrics
[verse 1]
it ain’t a blessing if you sin for it, said it like six times
but i don’t practice what i preach, i got six grinds
cah i got a son who turned six, i gotta get mine
free my brudda ratty he’s in the can for like the sixth time
skipped death a couple times but i live four lives
even though i’m muslim i could never keep four wives
love my bro four times
try touch him i be rising up my .4 twice
tryna buy a crib, you be buying up some more ice
i bought my bruddas tape, you buying more life
never been rich i been poor twice
heart’s gone cold, it just pours ice
f-ck young thug and them dons, i bang 2pac
f-ck the bouncer in the club, i brang two packs
my brudda got an ounce in the club, it’s how we do akh
this year i gotta fly to dubai and link fuad
i grind in rain, now i got the brightest chain
i could never snitch, i’d rather die in pain
and that’s word akh, to the world akh
they can take me now or hit me with a bird akh
feelin like bigs man, tell em top shotta’s back
bangin’ out trapz and potter tracks
i lost a z last fed chase
but it’s not a l my g, that’s shotta’s tax
[hook]
about gangster, your bank account banter
i’m in my city with a fizzy and a fanta
about gangster, your bank account bankrupt
i’m in my city with a fizzy and a fanta
about gangster, your bank account banter
i’m in my city with a fizzy and a fanta
i’m in my city with a fizzy and a fanta
[verse 2]
tryna find happiness within
my brudda got a twelve but he’s happy on the wing
any whip i get i’m blackin’ out the tints
i told my wifey wait and i’ll be splashing on your ring like
you gotta wait until your time’s right
spin a rapper like my brudda limelight
five years strong, and the ‘nect’s got the same buj
mans think they bad, till they 3 weeks in j hood
my brudda’s on the run they got him living in qatar
told my brudda open up a bible or quran
yeah my chain’s shining but you find me in the dark
f-ck losing money i be losing my iman like
i could never be a popstar
coulda been a doctor
never eating lobster
always in the ‘ood, with some chips and a box of wings
rather stab you up cah the roads aren’t a boxing ring
[hook]
about gangster, your bank account banter
i’m in my city with a fizzy and a fanta
about gangster, your bank account bankrupt
i’m in my city with a fizzy and a fanta
about gangster, your bank account banter
i’m in my city with a fizzy and a fanta
i’m in my city with a fizzy and a fanta
[verse 3]
on the roads tryna chase the profit
when i should try intimidate my prophet
born muslim but i’m moving like a kufr
twenty shots’ll have you moving like kapoof
let the mash squeeze and put it in his handkerchief
gangster boy, i don’t need a gangster b-tch
got bars but i’m sinnin’ for my p’s
this music ting’s dead i can’t be living off of streams
before i wake up and tweet off my spotify
get a box, break it down, shot a nine
it’s looking crazy in the street
active on the roads but i’m lazy on the beat like
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