Surround Sound
Surround Sound

Surround Sound easy guitar chords by Blak Twang

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  • Verse 1
    You 
    feel 
    it all 
    around 
    you, 

    in my 
    surroundings 

    It's 

    Tony 

    Rotten, 
    still 
    down 
    with 
    downtrodden 

    Got 
    to snipe 
    scoundrels 

    and cancel 
    flat 
    squatting 

    We 
    used 
    to get 
    the guns 
    from rock 

    bottoms 
    for next 
    to nothing 

    And now 
    I'm plottin' 
    little somethin' 

    to start 
    the rotten 
    cottons 

    The 
    ghetto's 
    my 
    umbilical 
    cord, 

    source of 
    my lyrical 
    thoughts 

    Soul 
    food 
    for my 
    metaphysical 

    thoughts 

    Defendin' 
    the 
    cause with 
    energy 
    source 

    Inner 
    city 
    gritty, 
    picket 
    street 
    off 

    Rebel 

    MC 
    with 
    the cause 

    Powerful, 
    strong, 
    black voice 

    Young 
    social 
    activist 

    Speakin' 
    in barbed 
    wire tongues, 

    fleshy like 
    actuses 

    Runnin' 
    commentary 
    on 

    dysfunctional 
    malpractices 

    Got 
    them shit 
    in their 
    briefs like 

    they swallowed 
    narf 
    laxatives 

    Street 
    sound 
    pirates, 

    broadcastin' 
    illegally 

    Department 
    of 

    Trade 
    and 

    Industry 
    keep 
    on 
    policing 
    me 

    They want 
    to muffle 

    the sound 
    of 
    the struggle 

    The 
    philosophies 
    of 

    Black 

    Aristotles 
    and 
    hide the 

    truth from 
    the youth 

    Raiding 
    the 
    gates, 

    looking 
    to stop 
    the sounds 
    we circulate 

    All 
    they find 
    in the 
    flat 
    was 

    Flat 

    Eric 
    and certain 
    tapes 

    News 
    travels 
    rapid 
    on 
    the streets 

    Minds 
    on the manor's 
    got 
    the scanner 

    So 
    evocate 
    premises 
    before 
    they 
    reach 

    Tie 
    a screech, 
    flee 
    in the 
    scene 

    Neighbourhoods 
    watch 
    your speech 

    Each 
    one 
    teach 
    one 
    and be 
    discreet 

    No 
    informers 
    get 
    big 
    dub 

    On 
    street corners 
    they 

    get frigged 
    up 

    Dub culture 
    breeds 
    hooligans 

    and 
    thugs 

    Who walk 
    streets chipped 
    up 

    Kitted 
    out 
    in camouflage, 
    combat 
    garms, 

    not even 
    long 
    arm 

    Bulletproof 
    jackets 
    are safe 
    from ratchets, 

    strong arm 
    tactics 

    That's 
    the 
    disorder 
    of 
    the 

    D, 
    the 
    beast will 
    slaughter your 

    brave 
    for any 
    little 
    of 
    free, 
    see 

    The 
    f***ing 
    mass 
    around 
    you, 

    every 
    day 

    The 
    f***ing 
    mass 
    around 
    you, 

    that's 
    the sound 

    You feel 
    it all 
    around 
    you, 

    Observing the 
    city 
    from my 
    landing, 

    surrounded 
    by flats 
    abandoned 

    Some 
    tower 
    blocks 
    reduced 
    to rubble, 

    some 
    troubled spots 
    still 
    standing 

    Sounds 
    of 

    African, 

    Caribbean 
    and 

    Mandarin 

    Mixed 
    blessings 
    and understandings 

    Old 
    blokes 
    are like 
    brooks 
    with hopes 

    of backing 
    winners 

    Bookmakers 
    with 
    crook status 

    attract 
    the 
    business 

    We 
    used 
    to be 
    the buyers, 

    now 
    we're sellers 

    Street 
    traders 
    and 
    vendors, 

    earn 
    a ton 

    Big spenders, 
    relentless 
    vendors 

    It's 
    strange 
    how 
    things 
    change 

    like weather 
    over 
    seasons 

    I'm 
    retracing 
    my 
    steps 

    to examine 
    all 
    my 
    achievements 

    ain't 
    done too 
    bad, 

    considering 
    the 
    odds 

    Could've 
    been swimming 
    in rivers 
    of blood, 

    hard 
    liquor 
    and 
    drugs 

    Low 
    wage jobs 
    available, 

    everyday's 
    a struggle 

    Life 
    ain't 
    no doddle, 

    it's inevitable 
    we 
    squabble 

    Trouble 
    brews 
    like bitter 
    in 
    a pub 

    Juvenile 
    gangs 
    run riots 
    in 
    playgrounds 

    When 
    barred 
    from youth 
    clubs 

    they 
    form splinters 

    Masses 
    roll deeper 
    than 
    thinkers 

    Hook 
    line 
    and sinker, 

    they take 
    the bait 
    and then 
    they whimper 

    Temptation 
    is 
    great 
    when 
    facilities 

    to 
    recreate 
    is 
    hindered 

    I could 
    have been 
    a pro 

    footballer 
    or 
    a sprinter 

    But 
    nowhere 
    to 
    train 
    a chill 

    blaze 
    in 
    the winter 

    Met 
    my sporting 
    goals 
    burnt 
    to cinders 

    paradise 
    bar 
    of war 
    singers 

    And 
    trigger 
    happy 
    gunslingers 

    With 
    love and 
    hate 
    tattooed 

    on eight 
    fingers 

    I'm 
    surrounded 
    by 
    sounds 
    the world's 
    forgotten 
    I'm 

    product that's 
    why my 
    last 
    name's 
    rotten 

    I've 
    seen 
    and heard 
    the 
    screams 

    of births 
    and burials 

    Surround 
    sounds 
    in 

    Nike, 
    I'm 
    digital 
    stereo 

    Stuffle 
    government 
    officials, 

    break 
    promises 
    and 
    bonds 

    Diss 
    you and 
    upscan 
    and blow 

    funds 
    and blunt 
    bombshells 

    I'm 
    surrounded 
    by 
    a bunch 

    of incompetent 
    housing 
    officers 

    Skating 
    round 
    big issues 

    like 
    a plague 
    from 
    hell 

    Last 
    winter 
    gave them 
    a call, 

    told 
    them bout my 
    frozen 
    pipes 

    Got 
    put on 
    hold in 
    the cold 
    and told 

    they'd fix 
    it overnight 

    All 
    night 
    long I 
    waited, 

    my freezing 
    bollocks 
    was 
    hurting 

    didn't 
    have 
    heating, 

    double 
    glazing 
    or thermal 
    curtains 

    Still 
    I get 
    bailiffs 
    daily threatening 

    to 
    seize 
    my goods 

    So 
    far 
    they've had 
    no access 

    to 
    repossess 
    touch 
    wood 

    heard 
    a loud 
    thud, 

    PC 
    plod 
    from 
    the drug 
    squad 

    On 
    the early 
    morning 
    drug 
    bust 

    with naff 
    dogs 

    They'd had 
    demands 
    on the 

    other watching 
    them juggle 

    Collecting 
    evidence 
    for four 
    months 

    just 
    waiting 
    to burst 
    a bubble 

    It's 
    bare 
    worries 
    and trouble 

    but 
    we're bare 
    the 
    brunt 

    Roll 
    with 
    the punch 
    and 
    come 

    out smelling 
    like 
    a rose 
    bunch 

    Them 
    minicab 
    drivers 
    want 

    their money 
    up 
    front 

    You 
    see 
    I ain't trying 
    to be 
    funny 

    I just 
    have 
    to be blunt 

    Yeah 
    we're 
    still 
    living 
    it up, 

    not 
    giving 
    fuck 

    It ain't 
    about citizen 

    Kane, 
    it's not 
    about citizen 

    Chuck 

    Yeah, 
    I'm 
    still 
    living 
    in the area 

    Still 
    getting 
    scarier 

    Here 
    is 
    the 
    surround 
    sound. 

    Everyday. 

    That's 
    the sound. 

    Everyday. 

    That's 
    the 

    Everyday. 

    You 

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