Lyrical Breakdown of Ooh (feat. Problem) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Ooh (feat. Problem)" 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 "Ooh (feat. Problem)" 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 "Ooh (feat. Problem)" 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!
Y'all be hella high powered on them socials
Face-to-face, I don't feel all them emotions
Money plays, I don't make 'em with emotion
Focused, never loafin', enough drip to fill an ocean
Ooh, me on ho shit, never
Ooh, big boogers in a bezel
Ooh, real niggas like 'Ooh'
You ain't tryna lose, better follow my moves, on God
Not from Buffalo, but I'm playin' with a few Bills
My medallion frostbitten, might give a penguin the chills
I'm the author and I'm an inventor of this style that you spongin' up
Your bitch on my fender, I told her, 'I'm married, don't wanna fuck'
I pray to my God like I'm at a mosque
On my knees like I'm arrested by the cops
Prices go up and down like a see-saw
Cameras up in my studio, I could see y'all
Flyer than the Blue Angels, more sticks than the glue man got
My rifle was stock 'til I modified that bitch with a bump stock
(A bump stock?) An accessory that I bought
I could turn a semi to fully, put hellas holes in your hoodie
Hella holes in your hoodie, hella holes in your lip
These 7-point-6-2s'll eat your whip
Hot-headed, I'll blow a fuse, I'll put out a hit
Give you and your niggas the blues, I'm with the shit (BIATCH!)
Y'all be hella high powered on them socials
When we got face-to-face, I don't feel all them emotions (Not close)
Money plays, I don't make 'em with emotion
Focused, never loafin', enough drip to fill an ocean
Ooh, me on ho shit, never
Ooh, big boogers in a bezel
Ooh, real niggas like 'Ooh'
You ain't tryna lose, better follow my moves, on God
On God, I ain't playin' wit' you niggas
My side gettin' money with the winners
Yeah, I see what they be doin' but I don't feel 'em
Stars in the ceilin', watchin' for the killin' (What?)
Murder the scene like I pulled up in an ambulance (Woo)
Nigga, whoever laughs, Silent Gary get the gat
You need the gas? Oh damn, let me poot
California legend, rest in peace Ron Newt (What?)
Miss me with that thug talk 'cause I ain't tryna hear
You may fool what's in that mirror but that shit ain't in your spirit
You may want me on your song, but on my mama, I ain't gon' clear
While I'm ready for that drama, on my mama, I don't fear it
Ask 40, and the dead homies, and my new Roley
It's a bunch of me's everywhere, it's like the game cloned me
I ain't gon' never ever forget what the game showed me
So now I'm back to get everything the game owe me (What?)
Y'all be hella high powered on them socials (Hella high)
Face-to-face, I don't feel all them emotions (Not one)
Money plays, I don't make 'em with emotion
Focused, never loafin', enough drip to fill an ocean
Ooh, me on ho shit, never
Ooh, big boogers in a bezel
Ooh, real niggas like 'Ooh'
You ain't tryna lose, better follow my moves, on God
More hammers than a tool box (Tool box)
More poles than the Bass Pro Shop (Pro Shop)
Don't get scalped with the tomahawk (Tomahawk)
Don't get your head put on the choppin' block (Choppin' block)
Be careful who you ridin' with
'Cause you ride with might be into some shit (In some shit)
These bitches'll have you pussy-whipped
Thinkin' wit' ya dick'll get ya hit (Get ya hit)
I don't trust nobody, you either my friend or foe (Foe)
I don't even trust my own family no more (More)
I remember cookin' ki's of candy or blow
Now I get six figures at these festival shows
When we shootin' dice it's hully gully pee-wee, no catcher (Uh)
Bet I 10 or 4 before I 7-11
Bet you I could sic a bad bitch on a reverend
Bet you if I ran for mayor I'd win the election (BIATCH!)
Y'all be hella high powered on them socials
Face-to-face, I don't feel all them emotions
Money plays, I don't make 'em with emotion
Focused, never loafin', enough drip to fill an ocean
Ooh, me on ho shit, never
Ooh, big boogers in a bezel
Ooh, real niggas like 'Ooh'
You ain't tryna lose, better follow my moves, on God