Lyrics: JID – Surround Sound ft. 21 Savage & Baby Tate

JID - Surround Sound ft. 21 Savage & Baby Tate
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New music alert from JID – Surround Sound ft. 21 Savage & Baby Tate  audio, mp3 lyrics

Surround Sound” is the first collaboration between Atlanta artists J.I.D21 Savage, and Baby Tate.

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JID – Surround Sound ft. 21 Savage & Baby Tate Lyrics

I know I can’t afford to stop for one momentThat it’s too soon, too far-
Push the fucking pack off of the porch or break a pound downGet this strap, if it happen to blow, it makes surround soundsPussycat on my lap, push it back and go to town downPutting rap on my back, and I’m blackin’, snatchin’ crowns
I done came back around like a nigga sellin’ crack in poundsI got a bag now, but it’s nothing to brag ’boutGun blast in the background, I’m a black man with the bloodhoundsMac 10 making love sounds to a bad chick, she from uptownI’m from down South, not a loudmouth, we can fuck around (whoa)
Hit the music, baby, cut it down (whoa)Hit a doobie while you do me indubitablyI feel like I’ma bust now (whoa)I feel like a bust down when I shine brightBlind niggas is up now (whoa, shit)In the cut, big black truck, pack sacked upYou can pick it up now, nigga, fuck it, okay (ayy)
Push the fucking pack off of the porch or break a pound downGet this strap, if it happen to blow, it makes surround soundsPussycat on my lap, push it back and go to town downPutting rap on my back, and I’m blackin’, snatchin’ crowns
I know I can’t afford to stop for one momentThat it’s too soon, too far-
Me and my money attached emotionallyI get to clutchin’ if you get too close to meI’m at the top where I’m ‘posed to beJumped in the game, niggas act like they coaching meFour hundred racks ain’t shit but a show to meI’m on the road and I bet that your ho with meWhen I’m in traffic, it’s always a pole with mePillsbury man, I keep dough with me
Hit from the back, she giving me slurp, and I ain’t even pull my pants downJump in the box and slide to the other side, it’s always a man downDraw down, hands in the air, nigga, make one move, get gunned downGiving out smoke so long, they don’t even wanna talk no more, just run now
No locked doors, I serve with a chopBitch got spent, she was hanging with an oppWe call him Mickey, he talks to the copsI was on panda, glass in the sockBack in the day, I invest in the blockFast-forward, now I’m investing in stocksI put a drum on the Heckler and KochDon’t play ’cause I’m very invested in shots
Push the fucking pack off of the porch or break a pound downGet this strap, if it happen to blow, it makes surround soundsPussycat on my lap, push it back and go to town downPutting rap on my back, and I’m blackin’, snatchin’ crowns
Pu-pu-pussy cat in his face ’cause he stay off Cheshire BridgeThen I took it back, now he sayin’ that he shakin’ and he shiverin’Like the way it taste, and he ain’t ate it in a minuteThey call me Yung Baby, but I still got hella chil-
Talk shit, run that motherfuckin’ crown, you bitchYou motherfuckin’ bitchUh, shit
Sorry in advance for my brosThey’ll whoop a nigga ass, what you whippin’ up? (Whoa)JID in the bag, if you lookin’ for that dopeNiggas got it in the bag, ’cause we trappin’ on the lowAnd I’m the shit with the flow, huh, give me a jokeHeard a nigga say that you the next? No, no, noI’m the best, tell ’em bitches stop the motherfuckin’ pressPress stop, fuck a top-five list, get ’em a vest, he get lopsidedFuck the cops, we was runnin’ from RottweilersMost of my partners ain’t have poppa, just a popped condom
Couple kids with Alzheimer’s, .40 on his sideBoy you Mike Alstott, he on the block violentRobbin’ niggas in the hood and then swap genresGreen light, line a nigga up, stop sign himKeep drivin’, you will not find himI’m a, I’m a, I’m a normal anomaly, I turned into a rapper ironicallyAnd ran the bag up, back up, niggas is onto meNiggas should honor me, if you think that I’m a wannabeIt’s pretty comedy, I’m melancholy and coolSo calmly bustin’ moves, my truths carry velocity
Same posse since OshPosh B’gosh, pussy clartTreat the rap like I’m pushin’ rockOn the stove with the Pyrex potThe door stay locked, it don’t say knockWe on they block, we own they blockIt’s Monopoly games, we stole they propertiesSmooth talkin’ and moonwalkin’, same lil’ niggasSmall pond, but a pool shark, I aim, big stickKnock, chalk off cue balls, bang this shit
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bangAh, ha-ha-ha-ha!
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