Lyrical Breakdown of 2Pac - International - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "2Pac - International" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how 2Pac weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "2Pac - International" is a testament to masterful songwriting.
• Rhyme and Rhythm Analysis: Our Lazyjot editor highlights the ingenious use of multi-syllabic rhymes and the rhythm pattern that 2Pac employs. Understand the construction of each verse and how it contributes to the song's overall impact.
• Syllable Pattern Insights: Dive deeper into the structural elements of the lyrics. See how the syllable count varies across the song, adding a unique rhythm and flow to 2Pac's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "2Pac - International" not only celebrates 2Pac's artistic prowess but also serves as an educational tool for aspiring songwriters. If this analysis inspires you and you'd like to see your own songs analyzed in this way, join the Lazyjot community. Register at Lazyjot and start exploring the full potential of your lyrical creativity. Turn your thoughts into rhymes and your rhymes into songs with Lazyjot!

Eternally thug nigga Hilfiger, made by Tommy So when I speak, hope to reach my Boricua mammies Oh, come to poppy, I love it when it's wet and sloppy In and out the mouthpiece, until I cum, no one can stop me My bump 'n' grind'll do ya every time Come get a blast of this thug passion, it'll blow your mind Hey! Throw up your legs, wrap them shits around my back It's a Westside thing, fuckin' hoes around the map Walkin' down 125 while I'm peepin' out hotties And they, seduce my Jimmy, I'll be screamin', "Give me body" Make 'em all scream my name out, give me my props And don't ya, love how this thug nigga beat up the cop I'm at the Rican parade, I'm watching caramel bitches play Get with real niggas, bullshit'n never get you paid This is the dream of a young black teen I fiend for hoes cross country like a greedy crack fiend Now c'mon (Hey girl) I can tell that you want it By the way your dancing on the floor (Hey girl) By the look in your eyes I can tell you want some more (Oh girl) Don't worry 'bout it, just keep doing what you do (Hey girl) Girl, tonight you can be international Okay, look, check it out Nipsey, when I pull up to the club on them chrome things I'm crispy, shining from my wrist to my gold chain Anywhere I go, I keep it hood, I never change If it ain't up on my lap, got it stashed in the Range Bang, bang, I'm getting bread on the proper Private jet, anywhere I tell him he gon' fly to My respect had these girls saying, "Daddy I do Anything you ask," get it crackin' when I slide through As God as my witness, right hand on the bible In Tokyo, honey turned it up, arigatou Got stroked fa sho, now up in Atlanta in the strip club She thick, cuz, took me to the SWATS, where the crib was Went full throttle, got it crackin', I ain't bashful From the kitchen to the countertop, in the bathroom Flips mo', trips mo' stamps on my passport Told her drop me off at Hartsville, I'm international (Hey girl) I can tell that you want it By the way your dancing on the floor (Hey girl) By the look in your eyes I can tell you want some more (Oh girl) Don't worry bout it just keep doing what you do (Hey girl) Girl tonight you can be international It's Mr. Hoodnational, rider with a passport Just landed from Paris homie pick me up, I'm at the airport With two bottles of Moet and a bottle of Port Can we, get something poppin' 'cause tomorrow got court So of course I'm ready to get it, feel it going down right now Hopped in the whip, popped the bottle, lit a blunt right now Did about a buck-fifty, seconds later, the party right now We celebrating Makaveli - 2Pacalypse Now Escape through the front door, they shootin' up on tippy toes Cruisin' up to get the dough If you lose a chick then let her go She done chose, it's over, bro Look around, it's Harleyville Dimes in high heels came from Japan to go to Cali to chill They choosin' for real with no grill in my dental Peep, my swagger tremendous, make moves monumental It was me, three mamis, E-40 and Pac At the Le Mondrian after party, it just don't stop (Hey girl) (Ooh, rider's) I can tell that you want it By the way your dancing on the floor (Hey girl) By the look in your eyes I can tell you want some more (Oh girl) Don't worry bout it just keep doing what you do (Hey girl) Girl tonight you can be international