Lyrical Breakdown of MORE DANGEROUS (f Busta Rhymes, Mr. Bristal & G-Dep) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "MORE DANGEROUS (f Busta Rhymes, Mr. Bristal & G-Dep)" 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 "MORE DANGEROUS (f Busta Rhymes, Mr. Bristal & G-Dep)" 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 "MORE DANGEROUS (f Busta Rhymes, Mr. Bristal & G-Dep)" 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!
Uh, yeah
All my BK niggas, uh
All my niggas on the corner, pull your macs out
All my jail niggas, max out
B.I.G. nigga, forever nigga
Yo, yo, yo, nigga what, uh
My gun bust like phone numbers
Seven shots tear the roof off your gold Hummer
My shit drop, it's gonna do Hootie numbers
Blowfish, I'm on beef, hotter than the summer
I got bread now niggas wonder
Who writin' for 'em, who this nigga faggot promoter
I'm just smart, I play my game like a hand of poker
It's a million in the stash bitch, check the sofa
There's two mil' in the closet on the left of the loafers
When I come through, niggas PYP like soldiers
I'm the type to hold dough like Tommy (Mortar)
Fuck a bitch like (Whore) then tell her it's over
Kick her out my chromed out Rover
I squeeze gats outta stolen Novas
Cease takin' over, from here to North Dakota
Speedboat, chrome Motorola
Like bears that's polar, we come out when it's colder
Ayo, feel the rough, scandalous
The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous
Yo, feel the rough, scandalous
The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous
Yo, feel the rough, scandalous
The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous
Yo, feel the rough, scandalous
The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous
First flow ever nigga, you know what that mean
Cocked and squeezed, don't talk when I roll in the scene
My man was yappin' to this nigga, got caught inbetween
That'll happen to any nigga who go against me
Do y'all want beef, or do y'all want peace
Y'all don't really wanna see me take it to the streets
When we do nigga, we get deeper than the sea
Bodies found floatin' somewhere way out in Tennessee
Can't handle one, so why ask for ten of me
And when I body enemy, leave 'em in memory just like Kennedy
From, state to state, city to city
Deal with the grimy and gritty, once told by Frank Nitty
What the dilly, niggas still frontin' willy
Actin' like they ahead of the game, with the 4.6 in the Range
Itchy like wearing wool in the rain
They keep it simple nigga, but with me it's just plain
Like M&M's, rhymes is rim, DJ's keep spinnin' 'em
If they ain't down with the fam, I ain't really feelin' 'em
Especially if they got somethin' to say about Cease and them
So for now, with the M1, that's how we're breathin' 'em
Ayo, feel the rough, scandalous
The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous
Yo, feel the rough, scandalous
The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous
Yo, feel the rough, scandalous
The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous
Yo, feel the rough, scandalous
The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous
I got a lot to gain
These cats playin' and it's not a game
It is a game, but I forgot you're playin'
Forgot your name, forgot your claim
But I remember when them bullets stopped your brain
And I got your chain, plain and simple, use your brain tissue
Or you could remain crippled, wishin' they ain't hit you
Y'all ain't official, y'all niggas counterfeit
Shot about seventeen at you, somethin' is bound to hit
Poundin' with a team of shakers
See the paper and blow like Anita Baker
He could meet his maker
If you need a wake up, holler
I kiss the girls and make 'em holler
Make 'em borrow shit, anything to make a dollar
Y'all don't understand it
I just do it, I ain't one to plan it
Handed under the table, shit I'm underhanded
Infected the nine, perfected the line
Nasty, perfected with lime
Bust on the paper, infected the rhyme
Ayo, feel the rough, scandalous
The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous
Yo, feel the rough, scandalous
The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous
Ayo, feel the rough, scandalous
The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous
Yo, feel the rough, scandalous
The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous
Yo, feel the rough, scandalous
The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous
Yo, feel the rough, scandalous
The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous
Ayo, feel the rough, scandalous
The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous
Yo, feel the rough, scandalous
The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous
Yo, feel the rough, scandalous
The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous
Yo, feel the rough, scandalous
The more weed smoke I puff, the more dangerous
Feel the rough nigga, uh, Flipmode
Uh, Chris, my nigga
Garfield, Big Nash
All my niggas thuggin' it
Feel the rough nigga, uh
D-Roc, yeah
Y'all gon' feel this nigga
Told ya, don't stop