Lyrical Breakdown of Sick Out Here - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Sick Out Here" 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 "Sick Out Here" 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 "Sick Out Here" 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!

Don't tell us this is the best you can do in building cities Who built this place? What put us here? And how do we get out again? Real nigga shit at it's best I'm blessed to be blessed Under these stressful conditions Hella my people's in prison They got em' trapped in the system Some of 'em in there for rice, some of 'em in there for swipes Some of 'em in there for life, narcotic vendor suppliers Some of 'em in there for priors, some of 'em in there with bikers Some of 'em in there for nothin', they never told on their cousin They'll poke you for playin' a dozen, they'll stick you and drip you Have your relatives singin' "I miss you" Who got some tissue? The guidance we givin' the youth is pitiful They miserable, their daddy don't claim 'em, mama on blow I heard this story before, it go on and on In every ward, district or zone The game is cold as the snow cones, it's far from sweet Niggas be bitter, because their hustle is weak Quick to pull the trigger, 'cause they don't want to get beat by the next nigga Rather shoot him and cheat Biatch! Mane, it's sick out here Sick, sick, sick, sick It's so sick out here Sick, sick, sick, sick Mane, it's sick out here Sick, sick, sick, sick It's so sick out here Developing stories I hear it all the time Suckas can't tell a lemon from a lime I got a drumstick that will stop his wings from flyin' But don't like to see my brothers out here dyin' I'm not a pussy, I ain't lyin', I'm a lion Makin' all kind of boss moves Slingin' and craftin' my own brews America was built on booze Shhhhhhh, speak easy Give back and donate to the poor and needy I promise you partner, hear what I tell you One day I'ma open up a homeless shelter Provide some clothes A blanket, a bed and some pillows That's the mind frame of a hustler that really care Get on his knees every night and say a prayer It ain't too many of them dudes, it's hecka rare Where I'm from they don't play fair They'll put you in a wheelchair Mane, it's sick out here Sick, sick, sick, sick It's so sick out here Sick, sick, sick, sick Mane, it's sick out here Sick, sick, sick, sick It's so sick out here Pickin' up where I left off and I'm right back Took a couple of losses now my bank fat Always gotta be cautious be alert and woke Being from where I'm from out here it's cutthroat Broads be out her scandalous, catch you outta pocket Slip somethin' in your drink, con ya, take your wallet Steal your Cuban Links sell and make a profit Presidential Rolly yellow, diamonds chocolate Every day on the coast, it can get ugly gross Might want to keep your burner close, 'cause they might burn your toast They might burn my toast? They might burn your toast Right now I'm off this pot and I ain't talkin' 'bout a roast Me and my fellas is close Niggas is so spooked that he thought he saw a ghost Thought he saw a spirit Every time I spit that real shit they be act like they can't hear it Every time I talk my talk Every time I used to pitch back in the day I never balked Ho! Mane, it's sick out here Sick, sick, sick, sick It's so sick out here Sick, sick, sick, sick Mane, it's sick out here Sick, sick, sick, sick It's so sick out here Does that mean there's no way out for us? There must be something better why can't we have it?