Lyrical Breakdown of E.B.I.T.D.A. (feat. Pharrell Williams) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "E.B.I.T.D.A. (feat. Pharrell Williams)" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Clipse weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "E.B.I.T.D.A. (feat. Pharrell Williams)" 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 Clipse 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 Clipse's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "E.B.I.T.D.A. (feat. Pharrell Williams)" not only celebrates Clipse'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!

I mean the hills like vitamin C, I mean yellow like bright as a bee I mean the sun like bright as can be, F80, not you tied to me Just a gift from A to B and ain't drivin' to see The path laid the Eiffel, army won't turn the parades off God bless takeoff I said I want the Rolls-Royce with the drapes off And it ain't electric, so it's way off Send it back Sendin' for the Gordo pies, picked up the tour on drive Straight up the 405, the way that the border's designed I'm feelin' like the lord of disguise, arms like two-forty-five Hit him, make sure that he dies, the text won't ever reply The feds came and collected my guys The rain pours and I'm hearin' their cries Went from heaters up to fevers up In the back, the seat is up Now I'm ten times the E-biter If you let the money talk, who speakin' up? I'm sleepwalkin', y'all don't dream enough My third passport, I ain't seen enough If you can breathe up there, it ain't steep enough Scale don't lie, you ain't even us Yeah, shorty want me hit her like an archer But I'm not that sprint, so I starve her How we fit thirty studs in the collar? Open the sunroof, wave to my father Rememberin' the shipments at the Portsmouth Harbor Somethin' for the face numbers and the Nadas Grew up playin' real-life Contra Never give up, that's the mantra Liftin' all this weight, now I live behind the gate Should DJ the way they diggin' through the crates Bustin' bricks on the plate I need more space to make pace The rap house is runnin' outta tape The drug money bustin' out the safes Scammers runnin' in and out of Chase Bottle servers runnin' outta Ace Went from heaters up to fevers up In the back, the seat is up Now I'm ten times the E-biter If you let the money talk, who speakin' up? I'm sleepwalkin', y'all don't dream enough My third passport, I ain't seen enough If you can breathe up there, it ain't steep enough Scale don't lie, you ain't even us