Lyrical Breakdown of Make It Count - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Make It Count" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Chief Keef weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Make It Count" 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 Chief Keef 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 Chief Keef's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Make It Count" not only celebrates Chief Keef'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!
(12-Hunna on the beat)
Can't wait to spray some shit
I would make it count I will spray it
I will make it count, I will spray some shit
Niggas ain't on piss, niggas ain't on shit
I just bought a '40 cause there ain't no kick
Got a '30 in it I'ma make it spit
I'm gon' make it count, bitch I'm sprayin' shit
I'ma count this money while I take a shit
I'ma spray that dummy if he try to take my shit
A situation is what all you make of it
Well I'ma make these pistols, get to sayin' shit
I got old guns on that cranky shit
I got new guns, can't wait to spray that shit
I swear on my Mac, be on some player shit
But don't make them get to sprayin' shit
Smokin' Tooka like a hookah
Run up on me I'ma shoot ya
No Versace Medusa
Fourteen-hundred for this belt like booyah
Diamonds on my neck like tumors
Hurtin' my numb neck like ooh ah
Ben Franklin in my pocket
Try to take it put your ass on the front of New York Times
Can't see me boy cause you are blind
You say you gettin' money
You are lyin'
I got a car 'round my neck now who wanna drive
Niggas ain't on piss, niggas ain't on shit
I just bought a '40 cause there ain't no kick
Got a '30 in it I'ma make it spit
I'm gon' make it count, bitch I'm sprayin' shit
I'ma count this money while I take a shit
I'ma spray that dummy if he try to take my shit
A situation is what all you make of it
Well I'ma make these pistols get to sayin' shit
Posted up on frontstreet
Sellin' dope up out my grandma's house
No I can't have no company
Unless you tryna sell dope up out it
Ain't no security with me
It's just me and 400 Jazz
And I can't trust niggas
So I went and bought me a fuckin' golden choppa
That bitch got tourrettes
She be screamin' out shit like "shit"
Bitch, fuck niggas
We don't fuck with fuck niggas
Comin' out the cut when you see us, duck nigga
Comin' strong nigga
Smokin' on that fuckin' strong nigga
Bitch I got my arm nigga
Old gun never go old nigga
I'ma old man, I'm standin' strong nigga
Try me you won't be goin' home nigga
Kushy Kushy, my Cologne nigga
Walk to court they be like "you smell like strong nigga"
Glo Gang shit, that's what i'm on nigga
You a opposite you meet my horn nigga (bang, bang)
We don't mean peace, we mean war nigga
Shoot you where I see your boys nigga
And I still believe in God nigga
But I don't believe in frauds nigga
I'm a glo man so why would I shiver
I just fall for it, I get pour for the niggas