Lyrical Breakdown of Stranded On Death Row - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Stranded On Death Row" 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 "Stranded On Death Row" 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 "Stranded On Death Row" 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!

Yes, it is I says me

And although agree

Are more than three, cause they're we

Yes, yo!, I'm in the house now for sure

Because I wanna talk about the hearts of men

Who knows what evil lurks within them

But lets take a travel down the blindside

And see what we find on this...

Path...

Called...

Stranded on Death Row, so duck when I swing my shit

I get rugged like Rawhead Rex with fat tracks that fits

The gangsta type, what I recite's kinda lethal

Niggaz know, the flow that I kick, there's no equal

I'm murderin niggaz, Yo, and maybe because of the tone

I kicks when I grip the mic and kick shit

Niggaz can't fuck with

So remember I go hardcore, and slam

Nuff respect like a sensei, ba-bash like Van Damme

So any nigga that claim they bossin

What don't you bring your ass on over to Crenshaw and Slauson

Take a walk through the hood when we up to no good

Slangin them things like a real O.G. should

I'm stackin and mackin and packin a ten so

When you're slippin, I slip the clip in

But ain't no set tripppin

Cause it's Death Row, rollin like the mafia

Think about whoopin some ass, but what the fuck stoppin ya

Ain't nathin but a buster

I'm Stranded on Death Row for pumpin slugs in motherfuckers

Now you know you're outdone

Feel the shotgun, Kurupt - inmate, cell block one

No prevention from this mention of sorts

Your're a victim, from my driveby of thoughts

No extensions, all attempts are to fail

Blinded by the light, it's time you learn braile

From the lunatic, I death like arsenic

When I kick up wicked raps

Dr. Dre will kick the scratch

With treachery, my literary form will blast

And totally surpass the norm

Not a storm, plural, make it, many storms

When I'm vexed, I fly leg necks and arms

In this dimension, I'm the presenter

And the inventor, and the tormentor

Deranged, like the hillside strangler

MC mangler, tough like Wrangler

I write a rhyme, hard as concrete

Step to the heat and get burned like mesquite

So what you wanna do

The narrator RBX, cell block two

Rage, lyrical murderer

Stranded on Death Row

And now I'm servin a lifetime sentence

There'll be no repentence

Since it's the life that I choose to lead

I plead guilty

On all counts let the ball bounce where it may

It's just another clip into my AK

Buck em down with my underground tactics

Facts and stacks of clips on my mattress

Bed frame there's another dead pain

Layin lain with the shame, who's to blame

Me, the lady of Rage

On when I'm comin from the D-E-A-T-H in

R-O-W takin, no shit

So flip and you're bound to get dropped

It's 187 on motherfuckers don't stop

Handcuffed as I bust there'll be no debate

It's Rage, from cell block eight

And yo steppin through the fog

And creepin through the smog

It's the number one nigga from the hood, Doggy Dogg

Makin videos, now I stay in Hollywood

Bustin raps for my snaps now they call me Eastwood

Dre is the doctor and my homey little nigga

Warren G is my hand and my hand's on the trigga

Shootin at the hoes with the game that I got

Sent to death row cause I wanted to make a grip from servin my rocks

And I'm still, servin for mines, peace

To my motherfuckin homies doin time

In the pen and the county jail

Mobbin with your blues on, mad as hell

And you say yeah fuck the police

And all the homies on the streets is all about peace

And it's drivin the cops crazy

But ain't nuttin but a black thing bay-bee, uhhh

No I'm not flaggin, but I'm just saggin

I betcha don't wanna see the D-O double G

And you can't see, the D-R to the E

Or my motherfuckin homey D.O.C.

You know you can't fuck with my motherfuckin DJ

That's my homey and we call him Warren G

Yeah, and you don't stop

Doggy Dogg break em down with the motherfuckin Dogg Pound

That's the only way we'll beat em man

We gotta smoke em, then choke em

Like the motherfuckin peter man

It's like three and to the two