Lyrical Breakdown of D.O.A. - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "D.O.A." on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Freddie Gibbs weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "D.O.A." 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 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's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "D.O.A." not only celebrates Freddie Gibbs'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, fa'sho Bitch, uh I'm a real-made nigga Certified grave nigga Yeah, ah, fa'sho) I'm a real-made nigga Certified grave digga D.O.A., it's how I play I let the fuckin' things hit ya I'm a street-paid nigga Tryna catch a fade with ya D.O.A., it's how I play I let the fuckin' things hit ya, bitch I fuck with gangstas Man, all my niggas make the papers I fuck with gangstas Man, all my niggas make the papers I fuck with gangstas Man, all my niggas make the papers I fuck with gangstas Man, all my niggas make the papers I fuck with gangstas Man, all my niggas make the papers Them boys is stinkin' East side G.I., we don't serve no strangers My bitch is stinkin' My junkies say they need that wake up My kitchen stinkin' It's a straight bake sale when I cook that cake up Mobbin'-ass nigga, fuck a project-ass nigga Serve the pack, man, call the trash man for these garbage-ass niggas Say these motherfuckers scared to rob a robbin'-ass nigga Send you back to your connect, you short a lot of bands, nigga Gangsta Gibbs, baby greasier than Weezy at the All-Star Way too often, Jeezy, he wasn't even in my ballpark Swing straight for the fence and drop my nuts down on the plate I made your favorite rapper want to put a price up on my face It's Gangsta Gibbs I fuck with gangstas Man, all my niggas make the papers I fuck with gangstas Man, all my niggas make the papers I fuck with gangstas Man, all my niggas make the papers I fuck with gangstas Man, all my niggas make the papers Real-made nigga Certified grave digga D.O.A., it's how I play I let the fuckin' things hit ya I'm a real-made nigga Certified grave digga D.O.A., it's how I play I let the fuckin' things hit ya, bitch D.O.A., get it how I live it when I let that four go Naptown nigga, done made it, emergin' fresh out the dope smoke All my niggas hustlers and killers, green light we all go Send 'em all to they makers and close casket they funerals No smilin', came up out a dirty alley with the thugs Bangin' TECs and reppin' sets, young connoisseurs with them drugs Pack the baggage, flip the cabbage, keep it slammin' every day How the fuck niggas talkin' bout R.I.P. when boy you 'bout to D.O.A. yourself? Bang, bang, bang, gang, bang is all I fuckin' know Blazin' rocks with killers and some motherfuckin' cutthroats And I know Colombians that bring it by the fuckin' boat Clap they ass, put they ass face down on the fuckin' floor Hit a couple corners and nigga know I got the blow Hit a couple corners now and nigga know I got the store Ridin' down Grant Boulevard, pullin' out the four On my way to Ham Block, finna cut some more dope Kill I fuck with gangstas Man, all my niggas make the papers I fuck with gangstas Man, all my niggas make the papers I fuck with gangstas Man, all my niggas make the papers I fuck with gangstas Man, all my niggas make the papers Real-made nigga Certified grave digga D.O.A., it's how I play I let the fuckin' things hit ya I'm a real-made nigga Certified grave digga D.O.A., it's how I play I let the fuckin' things hit ya, bitch