Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Dat Sound Good’ by Ab-Soul. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of Ab-Soul or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.
Dat sound good there
I’m just a – I’m just a –
(Dat sound good right here)
I’m just a regular chilling with thugs and legends
I got deceased contacts in my phone I never delete
I keep my cellular plugged into Heaven
Somebody nudge the reverend
Tell him I’m selling a white girl like I’m Starbucks, Uggs and leggings
All of these hugs and kissy emojis killin’ my foe, G
All of these soldiers killin’ ’em for me
I told her I’ma chill but still I’m a OG
Wish I could go back in time and keep it real with my old lady
I asked if she’d rather deal with a dope tree
Or would she rather deal with my cold feet
That’s a wild question
May the best man win and may I be the best man I can be
Everywhere I’m at but my wedding
Get live rounds from guns that are gigantic
Cause you wouldn’t bow down like the front of the Titanic
You’re gonna die, dammit
I’m bringin’ drama through your homicidio like I’m tryna say “homicide” in Spanish
My nigga Joell Ortiz said
Dat sound good there
I’m in tip-top condition, with a hustler’s ambition
I’m sick of hip-hop, I should be in the damn kitchen
Whippin’ somethin’ potent for the chosen clientele
All the smoke that I inhale, I’m ‘posed to be high as Hell
But that’s a twisted figure of speech, Hell is below you
I’m guaranteed Heaven before I’m beneath the soil
Toyin’ with the squad, that’s how you get sent to God, dog
You know it’s backwards to go against God, dog
Whoever gets a whiff of the base is loaded like the World Series
Steve Jobs died, now the world Siris
(I respect you) and that’s serious as a heart attack
I’m an ancient artifact, we question if your art is fact
In fact, you gassed up like you’re hard to match
Leave you ablaze, extinguish your remains
I’m the leader of this game, old school or new
Old Soul, but my shoes is new
Dat sound good there
A bunch of poison in my blood stream
Now it’s gettin’ ugly, I must be another junky
How lucky am I to still be alive? I’m goin’ crazy
Bought a Mercedes with money I raised for Haiti
Abducted Brenda’s baby, sold it to a gay couple
Take drugs too, high enough to juggle with some space shuttles
Your worst nightmare, breathin’ all the white air
Inhale, exhale (that sound good right there)
Yeah, the unforgettable walkin’ bicentennial mint
Born an idea, was never a man
I’m with Ab-Soul the asshole, Nickel Nine and Primo
Shit, Larry Fish, he brought the technicolor dream coke
I’m spittin’ on the face of evil
You internet rappers with no matter, I delete you
I ain’t human, more a movement of illusions
Live from confusion, if you see ’em, shoot ’em
Dat sound good there