Lyrical Breakdown of P.S. Phuk U 2 - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "P.S. Phuk U 2" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Eazy-E weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "P.S. Phuk U 2" 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 Eazy-E 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 Eazy-E's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "P.S. Phuk U 2" not only celebrates Eazy-E'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!
This is Eazy motherfuckin' E
Comin' to you direct from the Penthouse
And we chillin' in this motherfucker
Yo Playa, spit
Break yourself hoes, you're in the presence of his Mackness
Ruthless-Priority's back with another platinum package
For the suckers who thought we wasn't comin' just like this
Kiss my ass and watch a troop straight freak yo' bitch
And get a hoe back with a mack smooth controllin' the mind
And body, still givin' that pussy a party
See busta-ass niggas gettin' paid, but it ain't shit though
Yeah you punk motherfuckers doin' low, but yo
Witness a mack, wit' a strong back, attack wit' no pity
Gettin' fat off your bitch's titty
Los Angeles Players of the Penthouse are worldwide
Run but you can't hide, check your girl 'cause I'm sure to slide
Run up in between and get a hoe 'cause she's been asking' for
Don't disrespect us, open up so she'll come back for more
Never underestimate the power of a young troop
Checkin' a fat grip, and ain't on no head trip
With suckers on the nut sack, hangin' from the hairs
And bitches on the dick like my BVD underwear
If a freak ain't jockin' for whatever reason, so what?
I'mma still hit some guts, get a nut, and a proper cut, slut
If you do nothin', say nothin', you'll never be nothin'
And there's a sucker born every motherfuckin' minute
Yo Quik, kick that shit
Now the suckers take a lickin' like a Timex
'Cause I'm a troop, and I'm rollin' like a Rolex
And I'm your host, wit' the most, Mr. Quik, Eazy-E
And the P-E-N-T-H-O-U-S-E with somethin' bumpin' for your stereo
But sucker-ass niggas don't hear me though
But funky is the password to make 'em fear me, though
'Cause I'm platinum-bound, with that west coast sound
And if you want to get down, I got 17 rounds
Claimin' you peel caps, nigga I pull naps
Of the next of the saps, with that wack-ass cap
Like these South Bronx niggas, starvin' like rats
Wit' songs more corny than Yo! MTV Raps
How could you figure that a nigga like the Quik would show you slack?
I'd rather put a fuckin' shank in yo' back
'Cause I'm the type of nigga that'll fuck your moms at gunpoint
Off of Genuine Draft and a bud joint
So if you're lookin' in The Source mag and don't see me
It's cause the fuckin' East Coast is the enemy
But I got somethin' that'll serve you right
Nighty night motherfuckers, sleep tight
Here comes another Penthouse Player, steppin' on toes
Tweed Cadillac out for the money, the mic, and the hoes
Fade 'em my skinhead nigga
Now I'm a wolf in sharp clothin', pose and be chosen
I'll rock the mic, the stage, the party, and the hoes and
Rollin' suckers up in a zag like a spliff
Smokin' 'em, like a new pimp cigarette
It's been said that I'mma get fucked
Or get fucked standin' straight up
It's something 'bout yo' face, make me want to slap it
Somethin' 'bout yo' eye, make me want to black it
Call me Earl Shibe, I'll dip you alive
Spraypaint your posse for $99.95
The track stainless, directed at Tweed
Don't confuse me, for ya bitch or ya homey
Yeah I'm talkin' shit, only God can kill me
Your rhymes don't thrill me, suck my sweet dick, Willy
Yo, Larry Parker, where's my 3 million?
I want a bus in ninety-deuce fill in
The P the P the C, pimp or die low
Shake it up baby, it's comin' back dope
I ain't from Compton, I dwell in Los Angeles
Heart of California, land of the scandalous
Now there you have it, Penthouse, true motherfuckin' players
Kickin' that pimp shit for 9-2
And if you don't like it, fuck you