Lyrical Breakdown of That White - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "That White" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Fat Joe weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "That White" 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 Fat Joe 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 Fat Joe's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "That White" not only celebrates Fat Joe'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!
Fat Joe, Joe Crack, shit's all the same
Old rusty ass block from which I came
Fat boy big dreams, Mac-10, the vest
When Mac-10 shoot teams try to shoot up the set
But I'm a G nigga, I'll loosen the Tec
Wet the whole block, sip Grey Goose in the jet
Pzhooom... back to the Boogie
Backpack rappers they should have a plaque in the Boogie
Of me!!! You know why? Number one hustler
I opened up the floodgates, my "Flow Joe" customers
We all about the gunplay
But still take time out to pray every Sunday
The watch is sick, the chain is Alaska
Whip so many (P's) now they callin me the +Master+
UNGHHHH! Thank God for that white
I've been slingin it all day, we cookin it all night
It's on with the don, never let shit slide
Have your ass wear a patch like Slick Rick's side
Talk money, there's so much money, I can't even count
Gotta put it on a scale, ten grand weigh a ounce
Same corner all week, got the scene closed off
Should be draft in the league the way I pass those off
Coca! Now you know it's me
I was always G, you a sometimes thug
You fake hustle in your hustle and you sometimes drug
You ask if a nigga kill yeah I sometimes does, CRACK!
Primo whattup my nigga, ha ha
We had to touch it again you heard me
"Shit Is Real" you heard me
Shit on these fuck-boys, you heard me?
Thank God for that whiiiiiiiite
Crack! Coca! Krillz-mania
Macho whattup nigga?
(Big L rest in peace...)