Lyrical Breakdown of Who's Next - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Who's Next" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how DMX weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Who's Next" 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 DMX 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 DMX's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Who's Next" not only celebrates DMX'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!

When it's on, it's on You motherfuckers done lost your mind It's another one of those (Ohh man) Another one of them Clue/X joints (What?) Another one of them off the motherfuckin' hook joints Ohh, y'all motherfuckers done lost your mind When I creep through, niggas is see-through, just like an English ship Ain't no talkin', 'cause ain't much left but dead and sick Long as I'm walkin', I be strapped with my dogs Back in the hood, Desert Eagle, packin' 'em all Metal slabs with yellow tags on toes What happens to those that chose to be foes Bet his man knows that Joey only get stronger And the amount of time we're facin' is only gettin' longer Get the mayor on the horn, time for shit to go down Strapped for the showdown, wet up your crib, kick the door down Know you schemin', so I gots to get you first Put you right up in a brand new hearse Could be worse, should've seen what I gave this nigga Two vests couldn't save this nigga, way I laid this nigga Played this nigga, but that's what I'm good at Layin' niggas out, fightin' pits in fuckin' hood rats Where my fuckin' hood at? Flip on niggas like switches Rip on niggas like bitches, leave more niggas in ditches Layin' down half the bodies that a nigga caught Or should I say a nigga bought 'Cause ain't nothin' like gettin' paid for a nigga sport Kill for what a nigga thought, but that's just how shit be I know that one day they gon' try that shit with me But just as long as I'm on top of shit You ain't stoppin' shit, and ain't no motherfucker droppin' shit If it ain't ruff, it ain't me If it ain't ruff, it ain't D M to the X, most y'all niggas is straight sex (-Gunshots-) Next! If it ain't ruff, it ain't me If it ain't ruff, it ain't D M to the X, most y'all niggas is straight sex (-Gunshots-) Next! Plenty of niggas know, dirty is how I do 'em Push buckshots from a thirty right through 'em 'Cause ain't none of y'all motherfuckers built for war And I lay down the law when I spray down the door Fuck around and my name'll be 95-B-64-11 On the 3 1/2 to 7 But even up north I put niggas to waste So if you wanna stop the violence, get the fuck out my face Parole's at four, peeps hit the board off Bitches is fuckin' but I sleep with the sawed-off I got shit to do, rules to break, crews to break Before the news to break, I got dues to take I don't joke, the joke is cards, and cards are what I pull Infrared with the clip full, no leash on the pitbull That shit is hot like the wax off a candlestick But how I handle shit is to dismantle shit Duh-duh-duh-duh-duh, like Popeye when it's dinner time Runnin' through niggas like the tape at the finish line What's your crew gonna do when I put the pressure on And it hurts, wannabe gangsters in skirts And the bitches comin' all up out them niggas One false move and they moms'll be devout them niggas And they wives'll be without them niggas Matter of fact, I'm tired of talkin', money Throw your joints up, scrap, bitch! If it ain't ruff, it ain't me If it ain't ruff, it ain't D M to the X, most y'all niggas is straight sex (-Gunshots-) Next! If it ain't ruff, it ain't me If it ain't ruff, it ain't D M to the X, most y'all niggas is straight sex (-Gunshots-) Next! Niggas won't creep in these streets with me 'Cause you don't fuckin' with me, streets with me The Professional, part two, motherfucker! Haha, uh, uh-huh, uh Uh-huh, uh, uh-huh Pop-pop-pop-pop, nigga!