Lyrical Breakdown of Made This Way (feat. Tee Grizzley & Rod Wave) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Made This Way (feat. Tee Grizzley & Rod Wave)" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how E-40 weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Made This Way (feat. Tee Grizzley & Rod Wave)" 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 E-40 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 E-40's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Made This Way (feat. Tee Grizzley & Rod Wave)" not only celebrates E-40'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!
I was made this way, I was made this way
I was made this way, I was made this way, yeah
When I was younger, OG's used to let me come around
And soak up game like a sponge, or should I say beach towel
They woke my game up when I was a little child, when I was broke
But now I'm up and I ain't ever comin' down
I wasn't a knock, I was the server
My street was like a drive-thru service like In-n-Out Burger
We was havin' our digits, no wolf tickets
Me, Kaveo, D-Shot, B-Legit, my cousins and siblings
In my region, in my district, on my land
They got more K's than the Klan
In my city they got more guns than Corpus Christi
Gotta keep your head above choppy water and quicksand
Give you the thirty second checkin' for disrespectin' a pillar
For disrespectin' a staple, you'll get disabled, unable
Let me breathe on you for a minute, let me game you up
When I was growin' up, we went from the shoulders and knuckled up
We had to square up and squabble, swing 'em and chunk 'em
And even if you got your ass beat, at least you stood for somethin'
I don't condone sucka shit, that's not how the game was designed
I don't tape conversations, I don't record FaceTime
I'm the last of my make so therefore it won't be no more
It's stormin' suckas, it's thunderin', when it rains, it pours
"40 Water, what it do? You still dribble?" Nope
"Oh, I was gon' say, if you do, you got a pickle?"
A pickle, a pea, a pound?
Let me call one of my folks, they still get down
Life is a gamble but this ain't Caesar's
This a Hail Mary, a jumpball, a buzzer beater
Ain't been home in a month, ain't been sleep in a week
I'm in love with the road, I'm addicted to cheese
Jumped off the Porsche, landed straight in the streets
I play the hand that was given to me
See, I was made this way, I was made this way
And we were made this way, I was made this way, yeah
I might mix Amiri with some Alexander Wang drip
Tryna see how many hoes can the plane fit
How the fuck you drivin' that on Earth? That's a spaceship
Domestic violence, show my niggas how the chain hit, bitch
Under pressure, I'ma shoot the three like Jordan in his prime (boom)
Ruler of this Glock, nigga, measure up your eyes
Diamonds in the Rollie face like, 'Nigga, fuck the time' (fuck it)
Blow your brains out then we gon' see what's on your mind
Nigga hatin' on me, take his bitch on a vacation
When your crib get lit up, them ain't no Christmas decorations
Wake up, pick my clothes, I'll jump in the shower
Then go kick it with my unc' who used to sell powder
You joined a gang but don't nothin' about it (you don't know shit)
That's how we know you only did it for survival (you scary)
You better pray that you ain't clique up with the rivals
'Cause every night we huntin' with extensions on them rifles
Big Glock on my hip look like a blow dryer (big glizzy)
Smoke a Backwood, take my soul higher
These rappers ain't even talented, they got ghostwriters
Set your head on fire, turn you to Ghost Rider
Ain't been home in a month, ain't been sleep in a week
I'm in love with the road, I'm addicted to cheese
Jumped off the Porsche, landed straight in the streets
I play the hand that was given to me
See, I was made this way, I was made this way
And we were made this way, I was made this way, yeah