Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Knicks" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how undefined weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Knicks" 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 undefined 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 undefined's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Knicks" not only celebrates undefined'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!
Pippen on the assist
I'm watching Jordan drop a double nickel on the Knicks
That was '95, couple of us ain't live til '96
Gangbanging, cane slanging had us caught up in a twist
We was middle school fools, life was rushing past me
Fresh up out a school bus fighting up at Pulaski
Uncle hit me off with a zip, now I get some cash, G
"Where will you get some money for Nikes?" my mama asked me
I got it selling nickle bags
Stress, weed, million seeds, where the liquor at?
Mad Dog 20/20, kept a nigga loose
Murder was the case except a niggas taste the gin and juice
Cause then we gon' be riding on some bullshit
Shoot up a nigga crib, that's some hood shit
And I can give a fuck who in the house sleep
Waking up the neighbors, shoot my trey eight at the police, bitch
I got it selling nickel bags, bitch
Chilling with a bitch
Watching LeBron put up a 56 on the Knicks
In 2005, police killed my nigga in 2006
Only thing he losing is his pension, ain't that 'bout a bitch
If I see that ho I got a slug for him
I wanna kill him slow like I ain't got no love for him
I wanna torture and burn him, drag him to hell with me
This for my nigga just lurking, working the scale with me
In these last days, on my last page
Fuck a job, I'm whipping this butter cause crime pays
In these last days, on my last page
Fuck a job, I'm serving these cluckers cause crime pays
I'm a lunatic by nature
Yeah, kidnap a family for his paper
Yeah, and if you make it through the day, bro
Yeah, pray to God I ain't stank ya, bitch