Lyrical Breakdown of Position Of Power - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Position Of Power" 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 "Position Of Power" 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 "Position Of Power" 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!

Hahaha I told niggas not to shoot dice with me Look at this stack I got money I got money Hahaha Aww nigga don't trip I'll kill ya if you fuck with my grip I won't hesitate to let off a clip Aww nigga don't trip You gon' make me get on some shit Run up on you quick Wet up your whip Aww nigga don't trip You gon' get ya monkey ass hit Runnin ya lip tryna fuck with my clique Aww nigga don't trip Case you didn't know who this is Its 50 Cent bitch, G-Unit Aww nigga don't trip I come through your hood, stuntin' in my yellow Lam' Murcielago, top down, nigga damn I'm the biggest crook from New York since son of Sam Cruisin', bumpin' Buck's shit, Ruger in my hand Thinkin' the east ain't enough, its time to expand I plan to head out west and plant my feet down A nigga big as King Kong in the street now I do a lil' house shoppin', and buy me a crib It's palm trees and pretty bitches out in Cali kid I touched the Hollywood paper, go and shoot me some flicks Have some supermodel bitches come and suck on some dick Mama'd turn in her grave if I married a white chick But Becky'll suck the chrome off a Chevy and shit Niggas be wearin' fake shines, I'm rockin' a lil' charm 30 carats on the pinky, kiss the ring on the Don Crack open that Cali bud, stuff the weed in the palm Nigga you hustle, but me I'll hustle harder I got what you need, them trees, that hard, that powder My niggas move G-packs, every hour on the hour They shoot when I say shoot, so I'm in a position of power You fuck around if you wanna Where I'm from, you learn to blend in, or get touched I don't need niggas for support, I don't walk with a crutch Niggas know my steez, they don't fuck with me son You got a appetite for hollow-tips, I'll feed you my gun This is that Ferrari F-50 shit, its real laid back Type shit you recline to in the Maybachs I got two shooters now, on the run from the fuzz You get the same shit for ten bodies, you get for one cuz I live life in the fast lane, 100 miles an hour Chrome and some wood grain You know a nigga still really tryna move 'caine Make a lil' extra money on the side mayne I ain't playin', I'm up early with the birds word Puttin' that work in Pirrelli's on the Porsche chirpin', I'm making moves I got a hundred mil from music, a hundred grand from crack Goin' to see my jeweler, so I can blow a stack Nigga you hustle, but me I'll hustle harder I got what you need; them trees, that hard, that powder My niggas move G-packs, every hour on the hour They shoot when I say shoot, so I'm in a position of power You fuck around if you wanna