Lyrical Breakdown of Soul Right - Instrumental - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Soul Right - Instrumental" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

  • Lyric Overview: Witness how Freddie Gibbs & Madlib weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Soul Right - Instrumental" 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 Freddie Gibbs & Madlib 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 Freddie Gibbs & Madlib's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Soul Right - Instrumental" not only celebrates Freddie Gibbs & Madlib'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!

Smooth, nigga, you know what I'm sayin'?

Too motherfuckin' smooth, bitch, yeah

Bald head, head like a baby, a baby ass, bitch, yeah

Yeah, Kane

Here to motherfuckin' remain, yeah

Uh, bitch nigga

It's still fuck police, too

Yeah, nigga, yeah

Rest in peace Terrence Crutcher,

Motherfuck Betty Shelby (Fuck that bitch)

I never wish death but bitch, find a hollow tip and inhale it

When Taz drove off with two kilos, I told him we should mail it

And now we gone up the river, they seen my nigga sellin'

Nigga killed the police in Dallas, that's probably fake news

While they knock 'em off with robotics, R2D2's

Everything on me icy, Snow White, it's just like I skiied through

I sit back in the trap with them rats and I watch the cheese move

Shakin all these nutso niggas off the roof, off the record

Ball without a motherfuckin' ball like I was Tommy Sheppard

Life a bachelor party, we with them strippers on O's and X's

I can't hold no grudges, my hands is too busy catching blessings, yeah

Yeah, and I been struggling my whole life, yeah

I pour it up and get my soul right

East side boy, my mama was the mail lady (Yeah)

Brother and my sister got degrees but I got the yayo, baby (Yeah)

Had to beat my case, I can't turn Irie to a jail baby

Bitch, I weigh that shit up in my crib, I think your scale shady

Pass it off and drop it like Stockton, bitch, I facilitate

Fucked some niggas off but I also done set some niggas straight

Way back when we had rows and Lincolns is all a nigga ate

And every day I fuck up a bulletproof glass chicken plate, uh

Empty stomach, broken heart, and empty pocket

Three things that occur to show you if you and your niggas solid

Know that they won't prosper but the devil still gon' form the weapon

I can't hold no grudges,

My hands is too busy catching blessings, yeah (Blessings, blessings)

Yeah, and I been struggling my whole life, yeah

Yeah, I pour it up and get my soul right, yeah

'Cause I been struggling my whole life, yeah

So I broke it down and it was all white, yeah

Mama always told me it'd be alright, yeah

I still broke it down and it was all white, yeah

I pray the Lord'll get my soul right, yeah

I still pray to Lord'll get my soul right