Surround Sound

JID & Baby Tate & 21 Savage - Rap, USA
Surround Sound
388K Plays
Duration: 3:50
Lyrics
[Part I] [Intro: Aretha Franklin] I know I can't afford to stop for one moment That it's too soon to for— [Chorus: JID & Aretha Franklin] Push the fuckin' pack off of the porch or break a pound down Get this strap, if it happen to blow, it make surround sounds Pussycat on my lap, push it back and go to town down (Oh, oh, woah) Puttin' rap on my back, and I'm black and snatchin' crowns (Uh, woah, shit) [Verse 1: JID & Aretha Franklin] I done came back around Like a nigga sellin' crack in pounds I got a bag now, but it's nothing to brag 'bout Gun blast in the background (Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo) I'm a black man with the bloodhounds MAC-10 makin' love sounds To a bad chick, she from Uptown I'm from down South, not a loudmouth (Can't you see?) We can fuck around (Woah, shit, woah) Hit the music, baby, cut it down (Woah, shit, woah) Hit a doobie while you do me indubitably (Woah) I feel like I'ma bust now (Woah, shit, woah) I feel like a bust down (Woah, shit, woah) When I shine bright, blind niggas is up now (Woah, shit, woah, shit) In the cut, big black truck, pack sacked up (Woah, shit, woah, shit) You can pick it up now, nigga, fuck it, okay (Woah, shit, ow, okay, ayy) [Chorus: JID & Aretha Franklin] Push the fuckin' pack off of the porch or break a pound down Get this strap, if it happen to blow, it make surround sounds Pussycat on my lap, push it back and go to town down Putting rap on my back, and I'm black and snatchin' crowns (Can't you s—) [Interlude: Aretha Franklin] I know I can't afford to stop for one moment That it's too soon to for— [Verse 2: 21 Savage & Aretha Franklin] Me and my money attached emotionally I get to clutchin' if you get too close to me I'm at the top where I'm 'posed to be Jumped in the game, niggas act like they coaching me Four hundred racks ain't shit but a show to me I'm on the road and I bet that your ho with me When I'm in traffic, it's always a pole wit' me Pillsbury man, I keep dough with me (Can't you see?) Hit from the back, she givin' me slurp, and I ain't even pull my pants down Jump in the box and slide to the other side, it's always a man down Draw down, hands in the air, nigga, make one move, get gunned down Givin' out smoke so long, they don't even wanna talk no more, they just run now (Can't you see?) No locked doors, I serve with a chop Bitch got spent, she was hangin' with a opp We call him Mickey, he talk to the cops I was on Pinedale, glass in the sock Back in the day, I invest in the block Fast forward, now I'm investin' in stocks I put a drum on the Heckler & Koch Don't play 'cause I'm very invested in shots [Chorus: JID & Aretha Franklin] Push the fuckin' pack off of the porch or break a pound down Get this strap, if it happen to blow, it make surround sounds Pussycat on my lap, push it back and go to town down Putting rap on my back, and I'm black and snatchin' crowns (Can't you see?) [Outro: Baby Tate] I put the pussycat in his face 'cause he stay off Cheshire Bridge Then I took it back, now he say that he shakin' and he shiverin' Like the way it taste and he ain't ate it in a minute They call me Yung Baby, but I still got hella chi— [Part II] [Intro: JID] Talk shit, run that motherfuckin' crown, you bitch Motherfuckin' bitch Hehehaha (Uh, shit) [Verse: JID] Sorry in advance for my bros They'll whoop a nigga ass, what you whippin' up? (Woah) JID in the back if you lookin' for the dope Niggas got it in the bag 'cause we trappin' on the low And I'm the shit with the flow, huh Give me a joke Heard a nigga say that you the next? No, no, no I'm the best, tell 'em bitches stop the motherfuckin' press Press stop, fuck a top-five list, get 'em a vest He get lopsided Fuck the cops, we was runnin' from Rottweilers Most of my partners ain't have poppa, just a popped condom Couple kids with Alzheimer's .40 on his side, boy, you Mike Alstott, he on the block violent Robbin' niggas in the hood and then swap genres Green light, line a nigga up, stop sign him Keep drivin', you will not find him I'm a, I'm a, I'm an, I'm an anomaly I turned into a rapper ironically And ran the bag up, back up, niggas is onto me (Woah, shit, woah, shit) Niggas should honor me, if you think I'm a wannabe (Woah, shit) It's pretty comedy, I'm melancholy and cool (Woah, shit, woah, shit) So calmly bustin' moves, my truths carry velocity (Woah, shit) Same posse since OshPosh B'gosh, pussy clot (Woah, shit, woah, shit) Treat the rappin' like I'm pushin' rock (Woah, shit) On the stove with the Pyrex pot, the door stay locked (Woah, shit, woah, shit) It don't say knock, we on they block, we own they block (Woah shit) It's Monopoly games, we stole they properties (Woah, shit, woah, shit) Smooth talkin' and moonwalkin' (Woah, shit) The same lil' niggas small pond, but a pool shark (Woah, shit) I aim, big stick, knock, chalk off cue balls (Woah, shit) Bang this shit (Woah, shit) [Outro] Bang, bang Bang, bang Bang, bang (Ah, ha-ha-ha-ha)
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Credits
- Writers
- JID
- Baby Tate
- 21 Savage
- Nurі
- Christo
- DJ Scheme
- Charles Singleton
- Eddie Snyder
- Aretha Franklin