Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Fuck Wit Dre Day (And Everybody's Celebratin')" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how undefined weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Fuck Wit Dre Day (And Everybody's Celebratin')" 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 undefined 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 undefined's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Fuck Wit Dre Day (And Everybody's Celebratin')" not only celebrates undefined'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!
Yeah, hell yeah, know what I'm sayin'?
Yeah
Mista Busta, where the fuck ya at?
Can't scrap a lick, so I know ya got your gat
Your dick on hard, from fuckin' your road dogs
The hood you threw up with, niggaz you grew up with
Don't even respect your ass
That's why it's time for the Doctor, to check your ass, nigga
Used to be my homey, used to be my ace
Now I wanna slap the taste out yo mouth
Make you bow down to the row
Fuckin' me, now I'm fuckin' you, little hoe
Oh, don't think I forgot, let you slide
Let me ride, just another homicide
Yeah it's me so I'ma talk on
Stompin' on the Eazy'est streets that you can walk on
So strap on your Compton hat, your locs
And watch your back 'cause you might get smoked, loc
And pass the bud, and stay low-key
B.G. 'cause you lost all your homeys love
Now call it what you want to
You fucked with me, now it's a must that I fuck wit you
Yeah, that's the fuck I'm talkin' about
We have your motherfuckin' record company surrounded
Put down the candy and let the little boy go
You know what I'm sayin'? Punk motherfucker
Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay
Doggy Dogg's in the motherfuckin' house
Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay
Death Row's in the motherfuckin' house
Bow wow wow yippy yo yippy yay
The sounds of a dog brings me to another day
Play, with my bone would ya Timmy
It seems like you're good for makin' jokes about your jimmy
Here's a jimmy joke about your mama that you might not like
I heard she was the 'Frisco Dyke
But fuck your mama, I'm talkin' about you and me
Toe to toe, Tim M-U-T
Your bark was loud, but your bite wasn't vicious
And them rhymes you were kickin' were quite bootylicious
You get with Doggy Dogg oh is he crazy?
With ya mama and your daddy hollin' Bay-Bee
So won't they let you know
That if you fuck with Dre nigga you're fuckin' wit Death Row
And I ain't even slangin' them thangs
I'm hollin' one-eight-seven with my dick in yo mouth, beotch
Yeah nigga, Compton and Long Beach
Together on this motherfucker
So you wanna pop that shit
Get yo motherfuckin' cranium cracked nigga
Step on up now, we ain't no motherfuckin'
Joke so remember the name
Mighty, mighty D R yeah, motherfucker
Now understand this my nigga Dre can't be touched
Luke's bendin' over, so Luke's gettin' fucked
Busta Musta, thought I was sleazy
Or though I was a mark 'cause I used to hang with Eazy
Animosity, made ya speak but ya spoke
Ay yo Dre, whattup? Check this nigga off loc
If it ain't another hoe that I got ta fuck with
Gap teeth in ya mouth so my dick's gots to fit
With my nuts on ya tonsils
While ya on stage rappin' at your wack-ass concerts
And I'ma snatch your ass from the backside
To show you how Death Row pull off that who ride
Now you might not understand me
'Cause I'ma rob you in Compton and blast you in Miami
Then we gon' creep to South Central
On a Street Knowledge mission, as I steps in the temple
Spot him, got him, as I pulls out my strap
Got my chrome to the side of his White Sox hat
You tryin' to check my homey, you better check yo self
'Cause when you diss Dre you diss yourself, motherfucker
Yeah, nine-deuce, Dr. Dre, dropin' chronic once again
It don't stop, punishing punk motherfuckers real quick like
Compton style nigga, Doggy Dogg in the motherfuckin' house, yeah
Long Beach in the motherfuckin' house, yeah, yeah
Straight up, really doe
Breakin' all you suckaz off somethin' real proper like
You know what I'm sayin'?
All these sucka ass niggaz can eat a fat dick
Yeah, Eazy-E Eazy-E Eazy-E can eat a big fat dick
Tim Dog can eat a big fat dick
Luke, can eat a fat dick
Yeah