Lyrical Breakdown of Lil' Ghetto Boy - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Lil' Ghetto Boy" 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 "Lil' Ghetto Boy" 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 "Lil' Ghetto Boy" 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!

So, all of you Africans All of you Africans that wanna do things that's working for other people Y'all need to open your own business, save your money Quit paying motherfuckers for jelly curls Quit paying motherfuckers for perms Save your money, start your own business And you true Africans, will have put hundreds to work This is our future right here, this our future right here This some shit! The new generation is on! The new generation Hey, I'mma tell you right now If-if if I have to die today For this little African right here to have a future I'm a dead motherfucker! (You right!) Wake up, jumped out my bed I'm in a 2 man cell with my homie Lil Half Dead Murder was the case that they gave me Dear God, I wonder can you save me I'm only 18, so I'm a young buck It's a riot, if I don't scrap, I'm getting stuck But that's the life of a G, I guess Ese's way deep, shanked two in the chest Bests run cause brothers is dropping quicker Uh, too late, damn, down goes another nigga Bouncing off the walls, throwing them dogs Getting that rep as a young hog It ain't nothing like the street life You better be strapped with your shank, cause ain't no fist fight So I guess I gots to handle mine Since I did the crime, I gots to do my time Them say me grow up to be nothing, look at me now And tell me what you see I am what I am, it's only me Little ghetto boy Playing in the ghetto street What'cha gonna do when you grow up And have to face responsibility? Now, I'm holding a dub, sitting on swoll 27 years old, up for parole, stroll I'm back up on my feet with my mind on the money That I'll be making soon as I touch the streets Things done changed on this side Remember they used to thump but now they blast, right But it ain't no thing to me Cause now I'm what they call a loced-assed OG The little homies from the hood with grip Are the ones I get with cause I'm down to set trip Nigga, I'm bigger than you, so what'cha wanna do Didn't know he had a .22 Straight sitting behind his back I grabbed his pockets and then I heard six caps I fell to the ground with blood on my hands I didn't understand How a nigga so young could bust a cap I used to be the same way back I guess that's what I get (For what?) For trying to jack them little homies for they grip Me learn many things from what me from the street The outcome of what I've come to be Little ghetto boy Playing in the ghetto street What'cha gonna do when you grow up And have to face responsibility? Something for the real OGs to get with Some facts, made our made, now you wanna run and play Like every single day, really doe You know me, I'm the smooth macadamien, gaming them for my homie No needing being calm if you pack right And learning just enuff to keep your sack right Late nights, I wonder what they getting for? Early morning on the corners, what they hitting for? Seven young Gs but they serve down In a G ride, east side's where they swerve now Not thinking about what's really going on Got crept on, stepped on, now they gone I spent 4 years in the county with nothing but convicts around me But now I'm back at the pound And we expose ways for the youth to survive Some think it's wrong but we tend to think it's (right) So make all them ends you can make Cause when you're broke, you break, check it out So ain't no need for your mama to trip Cause you's a hustling-ass youngsta, clocking your grip Now me finally grown as you can see, still anOG For life and always remain to be I'm a little ghetto boy Playing in the ghetto street What'cha gonna do when you grow up And have to face responsibility?