Lyrical Breakdown of Blood Hound - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Blood Hound" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how 50 Cent feat. Young Buck weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Blood Hound" 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 50 Cent feat. Young Buck 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 50 Cent feat. Young Buck's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Blood Hound" not only celebrates 50 Cent feat. Young Buck'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!
G-Unit, UTP
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
G-Unit, UTP, G-Unit, UTP
G-Unit, UTP, 50 Cent
Get 'em Buck, man (rrr, hoo!)
50 Cent, that's my name, man, I ain't fucking playing
I move on you with that Mac, mane (Mac, mane)
Come off that watch and chain 'fore I blow out your brains
Shells hit your chest, go out your back, mane (back, mane)
See me I put in work, man, I been doing dirt for so long
Them niggas get laid out (laid out)
Niggas run through my crib to holla at the kid
That's when I start bringing them thangs out (thangs out)
Then we go through the strip hanging up out the whip
Dumping clips off at they whole clique, mane (clique, mane)
When witnesses around they know how we get down
So, when the cops come they ain't see shit, mane (shit, mane)
My soldiers slanging 'caine, sunny, snowy, sleet or rain
Come through the hood and you can cop that (cop that)
I'm sittin' on some change, G-Unit that's the gang
Come through here stunting you'll get popped at (popped at)
I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats, but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two Glocks
Love to bust shots, but you don't hear me though
I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats, but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two Glocks
Love to bust shots, but you don't hear me though
I came in this game knowing niggas gon' hate me
Just for the simple fact they know that I'm a rider (a rider)
I got a hell of a aim, I keep on telling you, mane
I swear ain't nobody gon' find ya (find ya)
When I get lifted I'm tempted to tear your block up
You niggas can't run 'cause I'm behind ya (behind ya)
Me and Chili in your city with a couple nine-milli's
You better stay in line, bro (in line, bro)
'Cause if I walk it I'll talk it, you know we'll walk up and pop it
I love the sound of gunfire, bro (gunfire, bro)
Right now we smacking 'em with platinum and they hate it
'Cause we made it, that's what we keep that iron for (that iron for)
I represent it 'cause I'm in it
UTP until I'm finished, Juvenile, they can't stop us (they can't stop us)
And I admit it, I live it
I'll knock a baller off his pivot with this motherfucking chopper (baow)
I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats, but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two Glocks
Love to bust shots, but you don't hear me though
I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats, but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two Glocks
Love to bust shots, but you don't hear me though
My 20-inches spinning, you always see me grinning
And you hear niggas call me grimy (grimy)
They hit me with them bricks and I ain't pay 'em shit
I'm outta town, they can't find me (find me)
When I come back around, man, I'ma back 'em down
I run up busting that TEC, mane (TEC, mane)
If you ain't got a gun and you can't fucking run
My advice is you hit the deck, mane (deck, mane)
But if you get away and come back another day
My soldiers'll leave you wet, mane (wet, mane)
'Cause we know where you be and we know where you stay
And we'll come checking through your set, mane (set, mane)
Man, you heard what I said, now get it in your head
I ain't paying no fucking debt, mane (debt, mane)
'Cause you's a middle man, what you don't understand?
You's a fucking fake-ass connect, mane (connect, mane)
I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats, but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two Glocks
Love to bust shots, but you don't hear me though
I love to pump crack, love to stay strapped
Love to squeeze gats, but you don't hear me though
I love to hit the block, I love my two Glocks
Love to bust shots, but you don't hear me though