paroles de chanson My Sub, Part 2: The Jackin' - Big K.R.I.T.

Chorus:
My sub, my sub, my sub, I put that on my sub!
My sub, my sub, I put that on my sub!
My sub, my sub, I put that on my sub!
My sub, my sub,
Yeah let my trunk knock till the tape pop,
My rims chop chop, while the bass drop,
Yeah let my trunk knock till the tape pop,
My rims chop chop, while the bass drop
OK I pull up and my partners ask me krizzle where you sub at.
Hey fuck them tweeters they ain′t beaten, get yo sub back,
So I push my pedal to the metal to my cuz house,
He owed me money, fucked that bread just set your sub out,
I fly like jets, that candy wet, im feeling fuck wit hoes,
E.q. these setting's in my Chevy ′till my trunk explode.
Maybe I'm bumping, maybe I'm tripping, Maybe I′m feeling good!
Either way I′m quaking, shaking wakin up the folk in my neighborhood
Still hit the scene and whip, pour it up in my cup and sip,
Never be where them white folk at cuz the laws over there they bound to trip, lift it up in my thump and bump, saw a lame and I hit the trunk,
Pop that shit like twice for real, niggas gon feel my wisdom still,
Chopping these vows too, congrats when I roll through,
Back to the backwood where I ride clean like im supposed to,
Forever whipping on, leather guts with plenty chrome,
Knocking pictures down till I get home,
I put that on my sub,
Chorus:
My sub, my sub, my sub, I put that on my sub!
My sub, my sub, I put that on my sub!
My sub, my sub, I put that on my sub!
My sub, my sub,
Yeah let my trunk knock till the tape pop,
My rims chop chop, while the bass drop,
Yeah let my trunk knock till the tape pop,
My rims chop chop, while the bass drop
Now usually, I dont disturb the peace,
But I'mma wake you if you sleep,
With that quake that bass that beat,
Two miles per hour on creep,
Smoke make it hard to see,
When im swanging down, I mean banging down,
I aint playing around wit no freaks,
I gotta shake junt in my trunk,
Tell my DJ bring it back,
Turn it up all the way to the max,
Till that old school chevy frame crack,
My partner hit me up like he need a ride,
But i cant hear him either!
Said he got some bags and thats kinda sad,
Cause theres only room in here for my speakers,
But im riding out, like I dont know what he talking bout,
Besides he always hating when im bassing telling me to turn it down,
Hell i just wanna hit a load, i just wanna shake the ground!
Lay it down in the parking lot, turn it up outside the club,
Cant tell if shawty really digging me, she can shake but she love to suck,
Might be the best but i can dig it though,
She vibrate, gyrate, and swear that′s the reason i did it for, I put that on my sub,
Chorus:
My sub, my sub, my sub, I put that on my sub!
My sub, my sub, I put that on my sub!
My sub, my sub, I put that on my sub!
My sub, my sub,
Yeah let my trunk knock till the tape pop,
My rims chop chop, while the bass drop,
Yeah let my trunk knock till the tape pop,
My rims chop chop, while the bass drop