Lyrical Breakdown of Roll With Da Winners - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Roll With Da Winners" 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 "Roll With Da Winners" 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 "Roll With Da Winners" 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!
Roll with the winners, the soul of the sinners
Which ring, which chain; the most our dilemmas
My uncles before me mixed the diesel and the blenders
Then crack came, I seen the coldest of winters
Mountains of snow -- made fiends tremor
Mink to the floor, we use the crème de la crèmes
Such a need to shimmer, the Benz got the slippers
Club owners love us call us yellow bottle grippers
Flipper? No. Whale scale tipper
I'm from a line of ex-kingpins that's turned sniffers
Pray the Lord forgive us while the maricons fill us
Up to the brim, call them the coffee bean spillers
Blasphemous, he calls kis God's pillows
Ivory white, bury me in my chinchilla
Ain't none iller, no! Ain't none realer
It's Pusha, just ya neighborhood dope dealer
You gotta love the gall on 'im
Twenty on the arm on 'im
Twenty-four inch blades, see the frame fall on 'em
Drugs czar, retired, like I was Shawn on 'em
Came back to star -- Jordan as he falls
Released to score raw on 'em, 2.2 pounds exactly
Tape criss-crossed like a bra on 'em
But the streets I was marred, I was scarred on
And ride around microphone fiend with the R on 'em
I'm Bad, James Todd
On the white part of the water, my third got scalds
On the right side of my palm where the soft got hard
On the right price, give me the light, I Sean Paul on 'em
Run the city, Sean John on 'em
New Marvin, screaming "What's Going On,"
I'm trouble man, I rubberband man, push hard on them
Same block where I crawled on 'em, I'mma fall on 'em
I couldn't dare do the arm, and not the neck with it;
Jesus on the charm, show some respect with it
Don't be alarmed, if y'all don't connect with it
Something like the Arnage, if you select with it
To most a mirage, but even when I'm pinched
The boy far from dreaming, the Porsche with the vents
Tucked in the trunk let the dogs track the scent
"And I don't give a fuck," about our best defense
Catch me if you can I am ginger bread
And the mink interior is crimson red;
Y'all talk before they even mention Feds
Of how I got the block like the Dawn of the Dead
Seems amongst thieves that honor is dead
Bucking the court 'till Your Honor is dead
Y'all take heed to what is fall upon ya
You are in the presence, Re-Up, the ensemble
You got no choice but notice me, everything I drop hard
Challenge is wiling out on opium playing dodgeball
With some bullets busting out the narrow barrel
Hitting you hard, your fate don't need no tarot --
Cards to be read, I reads about niggas like you daily, obituary;
Dead weight, my head straight, my bitch is very
Steadfast, that wet ass, ki daddy marry
Float through your city like I'm in a ferry; took the 7-60 off it
Put 8 o'clock on it, Eight-Double Dot-Double Zero
Add four more, you know the time with my earlobes
Niggas is mad, niggas is last, niggas is fake, niggas is late
Niggas need to be in the lake -- the bottom of it
Fuck you buck in new brick boots
With a burgundy wet suit for thinking you death proof, pussy