Lyrical Breakdown of TV On (Big Boss) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "TV On (Big Boss)" 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 "TV On (Big Boss)" 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 "TV On (Big Boss)" 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!
(It's a CB beat, bitch)
(Damn, Davis, drop that bitch) boss
Ayy
You got the ammo? You want the Anna?
Better be a cheetah, better be a panther
We in the spotty, watchin' the cameras
Flew a bitch to LA from Atlanta
You niggas funny, y'all should do stand up
The heater heater turn your shit to winter
The bankroll all up on my mantle
The chef here, wonder what's for dinner?
I don't give a fuck, fuck, fuck two doors up
Told the clerk you ain't done, bitch
It's two more of us, yeah
I just lost my fuckin' cousin
Ain't no tellin' how I'll get
Don't be fuckin' with my mulah
We'll air you 'bout this shit (Ayy)
Chief Sosa up in the cut
Feds ask about me, don't give me up
Dopey dopey, it get me rushed
Nigga say he gon' get me touched
Used to tell niggas, "Pick me up"
Used to tell bitches, "Lick me up"
Used to ride around semi'd up
Behind my foreign, there's a semi truck
Me and 'em got semis in it
Foe and 'em go dummy in it
You can't fit in the whip
Bitch, I'm actin' funny in it
Drank put my tummy in it
Dope smokes, got a onion in it
Bitches showin' they fuckin' titties
Let's make a toast 'cause we fuckin' did it
Glory Boys, bitch, that's the movement
Six cars and seven toolies
We know smooth, it's how to move it
Pour eight zips, yeah, that'll do it
Just fucked a bitch named Miranda, too
And I fucked her in my Yeezys, too
And I'm stackin' this shit up
And I put that on Jesus, too (Ayy)
Long live the big boss (Fredo)
Put you on a big cross (yeah)
I'm a fuckin' big dog (Grr)
New scope, get picked off (Bang, bang)
My plug love me (Huh?)
He know I get it all (yeah)
Fifty in the glicky (Bang)
You can come get it all (Bang)
Your bitch face in a nigga drawers (Huh?)
I'm the nigga your bitch been calling (yeah)
Bitch, I'm higher than Cheech and Chong
(Sos' baby)
Cops behind us, keep it calm (Huh?)
Bitch, don't bother me, leave me 'lone (Nah)
You don't need to know what street we on
(Nah) bitch, just put your 3Ds on (yeah)
Ice a movie like the TV on
(Bling, bling) , ayy (Bang)