Lyrical Breakdown of Dirty Pshyco (feat Obie Trice) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Dirty Pshyco (feat Obie Trice)" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Busta Rhymes weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Dirty Pshyco (feat Obie Trice)" 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 Busta Rhymes 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 Busta Rhymes's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Dirty Pshyco (feat Obie Trice)" not only celebrates Busta Rhymes'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!

Yeah! Obie Trice, real name no gimmicks I came in the game, profane no image I came in the game with a name I's given From a man who ain't give a fuck about his chit-len I proclaim the name tho, never in vain no Watch the change grow A young nigga who don' gain from fame Cop the Range Rove Now they want my brains on the main road But they don't understand what I came for I came forth with a million sold Who said you can't grow from mildew? And mold, getting money like Ross Peroe I'm often told, a coffin's the route's I go O that's the roads you on, oh no I'm down for the rightful tone of fo-fo Don't ever try to send a nigga home (No, no) I know you wanna catch me at Sinoko Show me that you're loco, put holes in my photo Nope! Obie! Hold toast no jokes send slugs through your polo Just 'cause though a thug roll solo Impose on grown folks, be a cold Negro Be low, you grieved up people Believe that the boy see no evil Oh! I had you yellin' out when I backed the thirty-thirty rifle Oh! To late for niggaz to get religious and start reading they Bible Oh! See you can yell like other niggaz repeating the dirty cycle Oh! See you should make peace instead of making me become a psycho I visualized it 'O Trice at twenty-five survived it Pride but violent Invite the violence, fist fighting the fireman Be a tyrant, 'til these niggaz nights is silent 'O Trice from a trife environment He rocks the mic no sight of retiring Maybe when the bank accounts like leviathan I'm in position to hire other clients (Bitch) Mean while I'm a virus like Iverson A nigga cross-over, Europeans and Myaran And the soldiers retiring I ain't buying motherfuckers acting like they denying him Who trying a nigga whose view's biased I figure your crews tired My trigger introduces 'Violence' (Dudes through sirens) You want to spittle Orange Juice and Vitamins Oh! I have you yellin' out when I bag the thirty-thirty rifle Oh! To late for niggaz to get religious and start reading they Bible Oh! See you can yell like other niggaz repeating the dirty cycle Oh! See you should make peace instead of making me become a psycho A derelict who inherited hustle My heritage married the street struggle Like a couple of great aunt's ago (Yeah) So this blood streams through my nuts Seems like I wasn't in touch When the teacher had spoke (No!) Now I was just a preacher in O Seat on the bleachers and flip coke The only reaching that got threw my dome Niggaz gamble so they get outta be chrome Pulled the winning raffle so I scramble with the track and the foams Fuck an act and a clone This is actual happenings that's factual, back in my home This is rap, but I ain't rapping so you clap in the "Zone" Think you're trapped in the act for the sake of performing This is your warning, run upon them wrong And your tissue was burning a hundred degrees more! O trizzy gone My nigga bust bring the hook back in for 'em (Come On) Oh! I had you yellin' out when I backed a thirty-thirty rifle Oh! To late for niggaz to get religious and start reading they Bible Oh! See you can yell like other niggaz who repeating the dirty cycle Oh! See you should make peace instead of making me become a psycho