Surround Sound
J.I.D [feat. 21 Savage & Baby Tate] Lyrics

Push the fuckin' pack off of the porch or break a pound down
Get the strap, if it happen to blow, it make surround sounds
Pussycat on my lap, push it back and go to town, down (uh, uh, wow)
Puttin' rap on my back and I'm black and, snatchin' crowns (uh, whoa)

Push the fuckin' pack off of the porch or break a pound down
Get the strap, if it happen to blow, it make surround sounds
Pussycat on my lap, push it back and go to town, down
Puttin' rap on my back and I'm blackin', snatchin' crowns

I know I can't afford to stop
For one moment
That it's too soon to for-

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 coachin' me
Four hundred racks ain't shit but a show to me
I'm on the road and I bet that yo' ho with me
When I'm in traffic it's always a pole with me
Pillsbury, man, I keep dough with me
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
No lock 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 a Heckler & Koch, don't play 'cause I'm very invested in shots

Push the fuckin' pack off of the porch or break a pound down
Get the strap, if it happen to blow, it make surround sounds
Pussycat on my lap, push it back and go to town, down
Puttin' rap on my back and I'm blackin', snatchin' crowns

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 ch-

Oh, shit, run that motherfuckin' crown, you bitch
You motherfuckin' bitch (oh, shit)
Uh, shit

Sorry in advance for my bros, they'll whoop a nigga ass
What you whippin' up? (Whoa)
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 them bitches stop the mothafuckin' 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 partnas 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'ma, I'ma, I'ma anom-anomaly
I turned into a rapper ironically
I ran the bag up, back up, niggas is on to me (whoa, shit, whoa, shit)
Niggas should honor me, if you think I'm a wannabe (whoa, shit, whoa, shit)
It's pretty comedy, I'm melancholy and cool, so calmly (whoa, shit)
Bussin' moves, my truths carry velocity (whoa, shit, whoa, shit, whoa, shit)
Same posse since OshPosh B'gosh, pussyclot
Treat the rappin' like I'm pushin' rock (whoa, shit, whoa, shit, whoa, shit)
On the stove with the Pyrex pot
The door stay locked, it don't say knock
We on they block, we own they block (whoa, shit, whoa, shit, whoa, shit)
It's Monopoly games, we stole they properties
Smooth talkin' and moonwalkin'
The same lil' niggas, small pond but a pool shark (whoa, shit, whoa, shit, whoa, shit)
I aim big stick, knock chalk off cue balls (whoa, shit)

Bang this shit (bang, bang, bang)
(Bang, bang, bang)

The lyrics to J.I.D [feat. 21 Savage & Baby Tate]'s song Surround Sound are a mix of braggadocious rhymes and gritty realism. The chorus talks about the hustle and danger of the drug trade, with lines like "Push the fuckin' pack off of the porch or break a pound down / Get the strap, if it happen to blow, it make surround sounds." Meanwhile, the verses touch on themes of success, loyalty, and violence through vivid imagery and wordplay. The second verse, for example, depicts a drug dealer on the rise who keeps "four hundred racks" on him at all times and has "invested in stocks" but is also ready to defend himself with a "drum on a Heckler & Koch." Overall, the song paints a picture of a gritty, high-stakes world in which survival and success often come at a cost.

I know I can't afford to stop For one moment
I cannot afford to rest even for a moment.

That it's too soon to for- Push the fuckin' pack off of the porch or break a pound down
It is too early for me to relax, as I need to continue handling the drugs and the money.

Get the strap, if it happen to blow, it make surround sounds
I always have a gun with me, and if it is fired, the sound will echo and make it known to everyone around.

Pussycat on my lap, push it back and go to town, down (uh, uh, wow) Puttin' rap on my back and I'm black and, snatchin' crowns (uh, whoa)
I have a girl sitting on my lap, and I push her back before doing my work. I carry my talent in my backpack, and I am a black man stealing the crowns from others.

I done came back around like a nigga sellin' crack and pounds I got a bag now but it's nothin' to brag 'bout Gun blast in the background (doot-doot-doot-doot-doot-dot-soot) I'm a black man with the blood hounds
I have made a comeback like a drug dealer, and I have a new bag of money, but I don't feel the need to brag about it. There is a gunshot in the background, and I am a black man on the run with the police dogs chasing me.

MAC-10 makin' love sounds to a bad chick, she from Uptown I'm from down South, not a loud mouth We could fuck around (whoa, shit, whoa)
I have a MAC-10 gun that makes sounds like lovemaking when fired, and I am with a girl from Uptown. I am from the South where people don't talk much, and we can fight if needed.

Hit the music, baby, cut it down (whoa, shit, whoa) Hit a doobie while you do me indubitably (whoa, whoa, whoa, shit, whoa) I feel like I'ma bust now I feel like a buss down (whoa, shit)
Turn the music down, and let's smoke a joint while having sex. I feel like I am going to ejaculate and feel like I have a lot of money.

When I shine bright, blind niggas is up now (whoa, shit, whoa, shit, whoa, shit) In the cut big black truck (whoa, shit, whoa, shit) Pack sacked up, you can pick it up now (whoa, shit, oh) Nigga, fuck it, okay (ayy)
When I succeed, others become envious and want to be like me. I have a large black truck parked in a hidden area, and the drugs are ready to be picked up. And finally, I am frustrated and say 'fuck it'.

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 coachin' me
I have an emotional attachment with my money, and I become agitated if someone comes too close to it. I am at the top where I deserve to be, but some people still try to take charge.

Four hundred racks ain't shit but a show to me I'm on the road and I bet that yo' ho with me When I'm in traffic it's always a pole with me Pillsbury, man, I keep dough with me
I have a lot of money and $400 is not a lot for me. I am always on the road with other people's women, and I always carry drugs. I also have a lot of cash on me.

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
I am having sex from behind, but my pants are still on. When I arrive with my gun, I eliminate all of my opponents. And if you act suspicious, you will be shot.

Givin' out smoke so long, they don't even wanna talk no more, they just run now No lock 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
I have been providing drugs to the point where no one trusts me anymore, and they just run when they see me. I don't lock doors, as I can handle myself. I also caught a girl hanging out with the enemy, and we call him Mickey as he is a snitch. I was also once caught with drugs in my sock.

Back in the day, I invest in the block, fast forward now I'm investin' in stocks I put a drum on a Heckler & Koch, don't play 'cause I'm very invested in shots 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'
I used to invest in drugs and the neighborhood, but now I am investing in stocks. I also have a gun with a drum magazine, and I am very skilled at using it. I threaten someone who lives off of Cheshire Bridge by putting my cat in their face, and now they are scared of me.

Like the way it taste and he ain't ate it in a minute They call me Yung Baby, but I still got hella ch- Oh, shit, run that motherfuckin' crown, you bitch You motherfuckin' bitch (oh, shit) Uh, shit Sorry in advance for my bros, they'll whoop a nigga ass
I haven't had it for a while, and I like the taste of it. They call me Yung Baby, and I have a lot of money. And finally, I tell someone to give me the crown, but I also apologize as my friends will fight if you disrespect me.

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
I am in the back, and if you are looking for drugs, we have them. People have them in the bag, as we are doing this discreetly. And I am a great rapper, and don't try to tell me otherwise as I am the best.

Tell them bitches stop the mothafuckin' press Press stop, fuck a top five list Get 'em a vest, he get lopsided Fuck the cops we was runnin' from Rottweilers
Tell everyone to stop talking and spreading rumors about me. I don't care about a top five list, and I will shoot anyone who tries to mess with me. And finally, we don't care about the police, as we are running from vicious dogs.

Most of my partnas 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
Most of my friends never had a father, and their mothers were forced to raise them alone. A few of them are also forgetful, but they carry guns with them. They also rob people and switch their style.

Green light, line a nigga up, stop sign him Keep drivin', you will not find him I'ma, I'ma, I'ma anom-anomaly I turned into a rapper ironically
I can identify someone who needs to be killed, and I will do it without hesitation. If you try to find me, you won't. And finally, I am a very unique and rare rapper who became one by accident.

I ran the bag up, back up, niggas is on to me (whoa, shit, whoa, shit) Niggas should honor me, if you think I'm a wannabe (whoa, shit, whoa, shit) It's pretty comedy, I'm melancholy and cool, so calmly (whoa, shit) Bussin' moves, my truths carry velocity (whoa, shit, whoa, shit, whoa, shit)
I made a lot of money and people are now starting to pay attention to me. They need to respect me as I am not trying to be anyone else. It is amusing how calm and collected I am, and I have a lot of secrets that carry a lot of weight.

Same posse since OshPosh B'gosh, pussyclot Treat the rappin' like I'm pushin' rock (whoa, shit, whoa, shit, whoa, shit) On the stove with the Pyrex pot The door stay locked, it don't say knock We on they block, we own they block (whoa, shit, whoa, shit, whoa, shit) It's Monopoly games, we stole they properties
I have the same friends since we were kids, and we don't play around. I treat my rap career like it's a drug business, and I still cook drugs on the stove. We always lock the door and take over the block. And finally, we play games like Monopoly, and we steal properties from people.

Smooth talkin' and moonwalkin' The same lil' niggas, small pond but a pool shark (whoa, shit, whoa, shit, whoa, shit) I aim big stick, knock chalk off cue balls (whoa, shit) Bang this shit
We talk smoothly and dance gracefully. Even though we are from a small place, we are still very skilled. I aim with a big gun and knock chalk off the cue balls. And finally, let's play this music loud.

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Reservoir Media Management, Inc., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Written by: Charles Singleton, Destin Choice Route, Eddie P. Snyder, Gabriel Guerra, Nuri Saberin, Tate Sequoya Farris, John Christopher II Welch, Sheyaa Bin Abraham-Joseph

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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