Lyrical Breakdown of American Psycho II (Feat. B-Real from Cypress Hill) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "American Psycho II (Feat. B-Real from Cypress Hill)" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Eminem weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "American Psycho II (Feat. B-Real from Cypress Hill)" 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 Eminem 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 Eminem's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "American Psycho II (Feat. B-Real from Cypress Hill)" not only celebrates Eminem'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!
Yeah, homie, I thought we told you We've been fuckin' local, Cypress Hill, D12, bitch
I'm a little bit off the chain, call me insane But the fact remains that I'm a psycho
Better get it to your brain when you say my name Never say it in vain, cause I'm a psycho
We fuckin' crazy, we'll fuckin' snap in a minute, bitch
I'm a motherfuckin' omen, I bow down to no man
Split a nigga open, killin' folks compulsive I soldier with a motive, scroll them big as boulders
I hold him, then I load on you, put it on a poster So everyone can notice who is focused on us pokin'
They nose in our business, hopin' that I don't come smoke him
No one knows my notions or emotions, I'm a vulture
Few niggas close to croakin' any moment, and I know when I can fuck the culture up
Probably rap, a maniac with anxiety attacks I don't wanna chat, speak when you spoken to
And I don't have to read a fuckin' magazine or quotable to notice what you hold against
We all soldiers, we move as a unit, we all roll up
And show up at your residence, light your front door up
Get scared, life ain't fair, and I'm prepared to blast you just as fast as Drake and say, hell yeah
So watch what you say, cause it can happen either today or the next minute
I can draw on a heater and spray, and I'm dead serious, you can be dead, period
End of story, I'm on your porch with a gun and your son sippin' a 40
Nobody can hold me, I does it all by my lonely
I stomp your head when you awake, you be lookin' like Gumby
Aftermath and shade, bitch, you can read it and weep
You see my poster in the hood for the G of the week
I'm a little bit off the chain, call me insane
But the fact remains that I'm a psycho
You know what, I am crazy, it's hell
Better get it through your brain, when you say my name
Never say it in vain, cause I'm a psycho
Nigga, I'm about to slap in any minute, nigga, evacuate
They found Saddam, but they ain't gon' find me
I be under a tree in Buttfuck, Tennessee
And I don't know too much about my daddy
Except be spittin' my face and fuck me in a fanny
I ain't a racist, I just hate whites
Fags and dykes, blacks and transvestites
Thirteen years old, can join the fuckin' game
And my ass cheeks feelin' the fuckin' pain
Am I insane? Who really knows?
Cause any second, my temper can fuckin' blow
I get colder than December
Black the fuck out, tomorrow I won't even remember
See, bizarre can show you what violence is all about
And it's Dr. Dre beatin', boy, let the fuck out
When in your house, put a gun in your mouth
And blow your brains the fuck out
I probably got a screw loose or two
Or maybe three or four of them
Some fell out and hit the floor
All I know is ever since my fuckin' head hit the snow bank
I've been a little Neanderthal, it's no thanks
To my man D'Angelo Bailey
But I just take it slow daily
My biggest dilemma's tryin' to figure whether
To use the flathead or the filler
Or just go to the Home Depot and pick the new power driller
It's been two hours and six days, I'm still up
I feel like I'm about to snap any minute
There's a new Tower Records, I'm about to stop and get a filler
Pick the new Cypress Hiller
And go find who did that shit to exhibit
And go fill up a whole liquor bottle with piss
And shatter his fuckin' nipples
I may be a bit off the chain
Call me insane
But the fact remains
That I'm a psycho
Better get it through your brain
When you say my name
Never say it in vain
Cause I'm a psycho
Rest in peace homie