Lyrical Breakdown of Everyday Thugs - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Bone Thugs-n-Harmony weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Everyday Thugs" 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 Bone Thugs-n-Harmony 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 Bone Thugs-n-Harmony's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Everyday Thugs" not only celebrates Bone Thugs-n-Harmony'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!

T-H-U-G (U-G, U-G) T-H-U-G [Chorus: x4] Sunday Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday Saturday thugs Everyday thugs we be Bone Thugs, ah Nigga thug all day any day, even when I'm in L.A. I roll with the thugs Better creep to the city and look for the weed spot Stop cause I gotta get bud Wanna get a pound of that floatin' stuff, some of that smoke and puff (puff) And if you smoke enough you sure enough get P.O.D.'ed Cleveland it's the same thang, they out there puff M. Jane Inhale (inhale) exhale (exhale) back on the plane Headed to the city that's sunny all year round, that's right Miami It's like a little planet, full of sin, well we got to have it (have it) And I'm simply tryin' to tell these motherfuckers That we thug all day (day) we Thug always (way way) So come to the party (party) and bring somebody (body) And bring some weed and a tank of Bacardi (Bacardi) It's gon' get rowdy (rowdy) [Chorus] Come and roll with the everyday thugs, stayin' "Down Foe My Thang" Stayin' true to the game cause that's all I know I'm a street nigga, keep the heat nigga Gettin' street figures, all night long I gots to go get me some money Cause just like that, nigga gots to have it It be greens or spinach or cabbage Whatever you call it can do your math And work this magic, get on the grind In position to be the boss Niggas can floss and talk, but I know they soft But a nigga like me stay raw On the D.L., cause what we sell Ain't none of nobody's business, never was And nigga never will be Thinkin' I'm broke but I'm out here filthy, feelin' me? Y'all niggas be killin' me Brag about the money that you claim you makin' Fuck around, catch your dumbass sleepin' Then that money be up for the takin' Yeah, I bring home the bacon And nigga that's all I'm a let you know You already know when I stole the show Little man with the big dough run these hoes [Chorus] I'm a thug, seems like every time I come out gotta prove I'm thug Like a nigga ain't put in work, with his blood It's gonna be the same, cause nigga gonna stay on his game This is how we gets down, with money man, money man Monday Tuesday Wednesdays, I mighta been chillin' Thursdays Fridays Saturday I'm out there kickin' it with all my villains Go against us, you ain't goin' nowhere Bone Thugs-N-Harmony keepin' it real for St. Clair Anybody that want it, even if it's on my mornings I will wake up, just in case you want it And I ain't got shit to prove it, thirty minutes over you do it Put it down nigga, really, now move it [Chorus] You know, we like the echo and oh We like the Roley y'know, we like the Benz-o but oh He the homie but no, he the enemy fo' sho' Pull a .44 out of the holster, bust on him like real niggas supposed ta Sticky-icky blowin' brew in my leather sofa Little nigga, roll a spiritual soldier Like Nat Turner, clap burner, murda mo murda Murder motherfucker, shit as hot as the kitchen furnace From smokers to workers, Cleveland to Cali Ghetto in our suburbia's, Little Bizzy stay pimp in alley And finally the vinyl be vital, and why should I flip? I already got the title, besides my vibe is the shit It's too many sides [Chorus: x3]