Lyrical Breakdown of Fuck Wit Dre Day (And Everybody's Celebratin') - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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 Dr. Dre 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 Dr. Dre 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 Dr. Dre's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Fuck Wit Dre Day (And Everybody's Celebratin')" not only celebrates Dr. Dre'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