Lyrical Breakdown of Heat - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Heat" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how 50 Cent weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Heat" 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 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's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Heat" not only celebrates 50 Cent'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!
Aye, you want some of this shit?
Naw, I don't want that shit
I don't give a fuck
I don't play that shit, and I'm finna buss a cap in a nigga
Man, shut the fuck up! Whoa! Slow down, slow down, slow down!
You see that brick house right there? That's the nigga's crib
When he come out you, gotta tighten his ass up
I'ma get in the other car, aight
If there's beef, cock it and dump it
The drama really means nothing to me
I'll ride by and blow ya brains out
There's no time to cock it, no way you can stop it
When niggas run up on you with them thangs out
I do what I gotta do, I don't care I if get caught
The DA can play this motherfucking tape in court
I'll kill you
I ain't playing, hear what I'm saying, homie, I ain't playing
Catch you slipping, I'ma kill you
I ain't playing, hear what I'm saying, homie I ain't playing
Keep thinking I'm candy 'til ya fucking skull get popped
And ya brain hop out the top like Jack-in-the-box
In the hood summer time is the killing season
It's hot out this bitch, that's a good enough reason
I've seen gangstas get religious when they start bleeding
Saying, "Lord, Jesus help me" 'cause they ass leaking
When they window roll down and that A.K. come out
You can squeeze ya little handgun 'til you run out
And you can run for ya backup
But them machine gun shells gon' tear ya back up
God's on ya side? Shit, I'm aight with that
'Cause we gon' reload them clips and come right back
It's a fact, homie, you go against me, ya fucked
I get the drop, if you can duck ya luckier than Lady Luck
Look, nigga, don't think you safe 'cause you moved out the hood
'Cause ya mama still around, dawg, and that ain't good
If you was smart you'd be shook of me
'Cause I get tired of looking for ya
Spray ya mama crib and let yo' ass look for me
If there's beef, cock it and dump it
The drama really means nothing to me
I'll ride by and blow ya brains out
There's no time to cock it, no way you can stop it
When niggas run up on you with them thangs out
I do what I gotta do, I don't care I if get caught
The DA can play this motherfucking tape in court
I'll kill you
I ain't playing, hear what I'm saying, homie, I ain't playing
Catch you slipping, I'ma kill you
I ain't playing, hear what I'm saying, homie I ain't playing
My heart bleeds for you, nigga, I can't wait to get to you
Behind that twinkle in ya eyes, I can see the bitch in you
Nigga, you know the streets talk
So they'll be no white flags and no peace talks
I got my back against the wind
I'm down to ride 'til the sun burn out
If I die today, I'm happy how my life turned out
See the shootouts, I done been in 'em by myself
Locked up, I was in a box by myself
I done made myself a millionaire by myself
Now shit changed, motherfucker, I can hire some help
I done heard about the 50 grand you put in the hood
But ya shooter finna get shot, it won't do him no good
With a pistol I define the definition of pain
If you survive ya bones'll still fucking hurt when it rains
Oh, you a pro at playing Battleship? Well, this ain't the same
Little homie, this is a whole different type of war game
See the losers end up in shackles and motherfucking chains
Or laid out in the streets leaking out they brains
If there's beef, cock it and dump it
The drama really means nothing to me
I'll ride by and blow ya brains out
There's no time to cock it, no way you can stop it
When niggas run up on you with them thangs out
I do what I gotta do, I don't care I if get caught
The DA can play this motherfucking tape in court
I'll kill you
I ain't playing, hear what I'm saying, homie, I ain't playing
Catch you slipping, I'ma kill you
I ain't playing, hear what I'm saying, homie I ain't playing
After the fist fights, it's gunfire, boy, you get the best of me (Best of me)
If you don't wanna get shot, I suggest you don't go testing me (Testing me)
All the wrong I've done, the Lord still keep on blessing me (Blessing me)
Finna run rap 'cause Dr. Dre got the recipe (Recipe, recipe)
Yeah, ha ha, hey Dre!
You got me feeling real bulletproof up in this motherfucker
'Cause the windows on my motherfucking Benz is bulletproof, nigga
'Cause my motherfucking vest is bulletproof, nigga
'Cause my motherfucking hat is bulletproof, nigga
But the Doc said if I get hit, I might get a fucking concussion
But better that than a hole in the head right, nigga? Ha ha ha ha