Welcome to the detailed analysis of "High All The Time" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how undefined weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "High All The Time" 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 undefined 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 undefined's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "High All The Time" not only celebrates undefined'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!
Hey, you wanna hit this shit?
It's that green tongue, Cali bud
I don't need Dom Perignon, I don't need Cris
Tanqueray and Alizé, I don't need shit
Nigga, I'm high all the time (I smoke that good shit)
I stay high all the time (Man, I'm on some hood shit)
Give me some dro, purple haze and some chocolate
Give me a dutch and a lighter, I'll spark shit
And stay high all the time (I smoke that good shit)
I'm high all the time (Man, I'm on some hood shit)
Every time I roll up, niggas holla "roll up"
Then I tell 'em hold up, you ain't getting money
You ain't smoking in my Benzo, 20 inch Lorenzos
Smoking on indo, high as a motherfucker
I be on them backstreets, niggas know I clap heat
Only if you got beef, man, you better holla at me
Niggas get locked up, stabbed up, shot up
Every time I pop up, a lot going on in my hood
I shoot the dice, I holla get 'em girls, Daddy need new shoes
Daddy need Pirellis to look mean on 22's (yeah)
Stash box, Xbox, laptop, fax machine, phone
Bulletproof this bitch and I'm gone
2003 Suburban swerving, too many sips of Henny (yeah)
The D's sick, they searched the whip and they can't find the semis (wooh)
They was just harassing me 'cause they know who I was
Spent the night in Central Booking for smoking some bud
I don't need Dom Perignon, I don't need Cris
Tanqueray and Alizé, I don't need shit
Nigga, I'm high all the time (I smoke that good shit)
I stay high all the time (Man, I'm on some hood shit)
Give me some dro, purple haze and some chocolate
Give me a dutch and a lighter, I'll spark shit
And stay high all the time (I smoke that good shit)
I'm high all the time (Man, I'm on some hood shit)
Now if you heard I done started some shit
It ain't because I be high (I be high, I be high)
And if you heard I done let off a clip
It ain't because I be high (I be high, I be high)
But I twist that la, la, la, la
I get high as I wanna, nigga
Go against me, for sure, you's a goner, nigga
I don't smoke to calm my nerves, but I got beef
Finna crush my enemies like I crush the hashish
If you love me, tell me you love me, don't stare at me, man
I hate to be in the pen for clapping one of my fan
Now let me show you how to greet me
When you meet me, when you see me
If you real, my nigga, you know how to holla "G-Unit!"
There's no competition, it's just me
50 Cent, motherfucker, I'm hot on these streets
If David could go against Goliath with a stone
I could go at Nas and Jigga, both for the throne
I don't need Dom Perignon, I don't need Cris
Tanqueray and Alizé, I don't need shit
Nigga, I'm high all the time (I smoke that good shit)
I stay high all the time (Man, I'm on some hood shit)
Give me some dro, purple haze and some chocolate
Give me a dutch and a lighter, I'll spark shit
And stay high all the time (I smoke that good shit)
I'm high all the time (Man, I'm on some hood shit)
Now, who you know besides me
Who write lines and squeeze nines
And have hoes in the hood sniffing on white lines?
You don't want me to be your kid's role model
I'll teach them how to buck them .380s and load up them hollows (yeah)
Have shorty fresh off the stoop, ready to shoot
Big blunt in his mouth, deuce-deuce in his boot (han, han)
Sit in the crib sipping Guinness watching Menace, then oh Lord
Have a young nigga bucking shit like he O-Dog (wooh)
My team, they depend on me when it's crunch time
I eat a nigga food in broad day like it's lunchtime
You feeling brave, nigga? Go ahead, get gully
See if I won't leave your brains leaking up out your skully
I don't made myself hot, so ain't shit you can tell me
Now niggas calling me to feature, man, fuck your money
I ain't hurting, I'm aight, nigga, I'm doing good
I ain't got to write rhymes, I got bricks in the hood
I don't need Dom Perignon, I don't need Cris
Tanqueray and Alizé, I don't need shit
Nigga, I'm high all the time (I smoke that good shit)
I stay high all the time (Man, I'm on some hood shit)
Give me some dro, purple haze and some chocolate
Give me a dutch and a lighter, I'll spark shit
And stay high all the time (I smoke that good shit)
I'm high all the time (Man, I'm on some hood shit)
G-Unit, are you ready?
G-Unit, are you ready?
G-Unit, are you ready?
Nigga, ready or not
Here I come, come, come