Lyrical Breakdown of There's Not A Problem My Squad Can't Fix - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "There's Not A Problem My Squad Can't Fix" 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 "There's Not A Problem My Squad Can't Fix" 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 "There's Not A Problem My Squad Can't Fix" 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!
-- Synced by NoMan --
C'mon (Uh), aight? (Uh-huh)
I got this side right here (Uh, uh)
Check this out right there (Yeah, where ya at, y'all niggas?)
Can't do this
Bus-a-Bus (Me, Mally G)
C'mon, aight? (Bus-a-Bus, here we go)
C'mon (Here we go), stayin' street (Here we go)
Pause, little 'Mal with the dirty dog, raw rap job
If you ain't wit' it, bite crotch 'til it break your jaw (Jaw)
For tryin' to knock us. Tryin' to kill or stop us, jack our propers
Bus-a-Bus, they fakin', the cake is for the takin'
While they runnin' they face (Uh-huh), I'm lettin' the plan bake
Formulate, now look at the plot, we got
More and more shit that's hot, sho' to rock the spot
Clock or knot, nigga, the whole pot
Ready or not, we comin', snatchin' every comer
Witcha ho in the Benz-O, dumbin' like a motherfucker
You can be my lady (Haha), you could even be my lollipop sucker (Yeah)
The raw dawg, baby, comin' like the mad trucker
Lot of jealous niggas lookin' funnier than Chris Tucker (Woo)
God bless, oh, yes, I stay fresh
Full of finesse, my congress show progress
Stylish, hit you with the shit to digest
In this rhyme shit, we be some of the world's finest (Uh)
Your Highness, leavin' corny niggas spineless
Attack it with the classic rhyme, flow timeless (Haha)
There's not a problem my squad can't fix (Ha, ha, c'mon, ha)
'Cause we can do it in the mix (Ha, uh-huh)
So when you niggas talk trash (What? Ha), you will get a bust ass (What? Give it to me, yo, right)
'Cause you know we don't fuck around (Ha, ha, give it to me, yo)
When you niggas talk shit (Ooh), lay you six feet under the ground (Give it to me, yo)
Ground, ground, ground, ground (Lay you down, nigga, lay you down nigga, c'mon)
When you niggas talk shit (Ha), lay you six feet under the ground (Ha, ha)
Ground, ground, ground, ground (Ha, ha, ha, ha)
This is how we ride, throw your hands from side to side
It's party time, and don't forget get yours, 'cause I'ma get mine
(Who that?) The villain 'til I'm peelin' a million
Ridin' dirty and bustin' like thirty-thirty (Uh-huh), 'til a nigga end
Knowin' that the shit is fucked I'm still here to win (What?)
Cheddar (Uh), if you ain't about it then I think you better
Hang the little plot you got, don't sweat it, mayne
My nigga, my life's uncut like Kane, real raw
Y'all don't know shit about Jamal or what I'm in it for (For)
Cash, cars, fly whores and tours (Uh-huh)
Fillin' my pipe, with no mess and no limits
Them other ones scrimpin', has the tent froze frigid (Ah)
Fraud as a gimmick, dick lickin', chasin' chickens
I mash for the cash with the click and (Uh-huh)
Rip a show then I'm dippin' in the whip and high trippin' (Trippin')
While y'all niggas (Yeah) hoppin' and skippin', I stick the clip in, yo
Accelerate on the gas, move fast
Blast, find a nigga foot in your ass
Colorful nigga, just peep the whole contrast
Flipmode is the squad, the news flash
Bust your shit up, what the fuck, nigga? Get up
Violate niggas, get they whole shit lit up
Break fool, niggas know the rules, rob jewels
Champagne bath, throw the Moët in the pool
Nigga caught a motherfuckin' strain on the brain
Ridin' on the train, I'ma whip a Benz in the rain
Oversized click on the rise, so realise
We be them niggas that dead up all you funny little small fries
The franchise
Flipmode damagin' all of you fall guys
Yo, I'm tired of niggas, they full of true lies
No time, we got the right surprise
Need a new beginnin', need to get a baptise, ha, ha
You need to get a baptise, word is bond, ayo
There's not a problem my squad can't fix (Ha, ha, hoo)
'Cause we can do it in the mix (Heh, what?)
So when you niggas talk trash (What? What?), you will get a bust ass (What?)
'Cause you know we don't fuck around (Ha, fuck around, nigga?)
When you niggas talk shit (Ha), lay you six feet under the ground
Ground, ground, ground, ground (Lay you down, son, lay you down nigga)
When you niggas talk shit (Ha), lay you six feet under the ground (Hoo)
Ground, ground, ground, ground (Ha, ha, hoo, ha, ha)
Ground (Ha), a-ground, a-gr-gr-ground-ground (What?)
Just party (C'mon) to the shit like this, c'mon (Ha, uh-huh, yeah)
Just bounce to the motherfuckin' beat, c'mon (Woo, ha)
You niggas don't know my brand new song, c'mon
Ayo (Ha), hear me out y'all (Uh)
Yo, and just feel my shit (Yo, ha), c'mon, bounce, what the fuck?