Lyrical Breakdown of Pussy - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Pussy" 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 "Pussy" 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 "Pussy" 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!

(Chorus - Pusha T) I ain't in to fat lippin, I'm in to gat grippin A cat's slippin, is a cat drippin Why I say that? the cat's slippin, the Mac's spittin The cat drippin, look in the mirror you's a fat kitten Puuusssssssssssssyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy-ah (Verse 1 - Pusha T) All I wanted growing up was remote controls Now my whole life remote control, hit the block dope control Got ghetto corners choking slow Grandmama go to church trying to soak my soul, oh! This one's for my foes Find yourself, in a hopeless hole trying to go against him! I puppet you Pinocchios, flows on strings It - is what it seems, just call me Jepeto! A Young Stock Market, put money in your pocket Cause when Pusha talk it is the object then I drop it I rose gold ya, huh? pink diamond ya, hah? Set it in a rhyme now the industry got pink eye Contagious, flows high demand, like the new Lou Vuitton Monogram Pastels is cute; How you niggaz follow suits so well? These barrels encompass the heat from +Hell+ Nigga the Franchise of Star Trak sales, uh! (Chorus) (Verse 2 - Malice) They'd rather see me not breathing, than see me achieve Have my mama grieving, crouched to her knees Jealous hearted niggaz, y'all wear it on ya sleeve Like a scarlet letter, for the world to see Can't hide the truth, decendents of pain So y'all get exposed like the sons of Hussein My game weight grown, this is no fact When cats was at hoop, I was Cadillac Brome I'm not these rap kids, wit childish antics Who make diss records, who rock hat backwards These are higher stakes, this is not average weight This is not pinching penny's b---h, this is carrot cake This is the difference 'tween rookies and the pros They pattern after me, they cookie-cut my flow But so (so, so), I'm never one that be jeal' Do as I do so I can say, "Papa raised you well" (Chorus) (Verse 3 - Pusha T) They say the Lord closes windows, to open doors Nigga don't make me open yours Seen hearts beat through, open sores Subliminal rap shit, so immature, that's why I ignore Punchline niggaz on front time, silly hoe shit He who questions I is unfocused Copperfield flow yes! I'll make careers disappear Like hocus - pocus - no joke, it's Push' (Malice) Mercy, mercy! Oh Lord who is he? Who curse me, curse me? But doing me It hurts me so, puts me through changes So I got Porsche's and Hummers to deal wit the anguish (oh, oh!) Acts live, but only if you speak the language ...And the rest is Comic View Star Trak The Movement, who you pay homage to? You don't want it with them boys, this I promice you, you pussy!