Lyrical Breakdown of 9 Milli Bros - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "9 Milli Bros" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Ghostface Killah weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "9 Milli Bros" 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 Ghostface Killah 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 Ghostface Killah's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "9 Milli Bros" not only celebrates Ghostface Killah'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!

Bob Digi, U-G-O-D, Raekwon The Chef, the Inspektah Deck M-E-T-H-O-D the B-O-B-B (The Man) Straight up, Masta Killa, the GZA The Genius, it's the Ol' D-d-dirty Bastard One, two, one, two (Killer Beats) Turn it up, turn it up The headphones, turn it up Yo, you hear me? (Yeah, whut up Toney?) W'sup Don' Don' (All the way up) You know how we do (Let's get this paper together) You motherfuckin' right Pa, uh, huh (That's right, c'mon nigga) That's as far as it goes? Sound about to go off on some real live Wu shit, uh, huh (WTC, Ghost-face) Lemme give y'all the bullshit For y'all niggas, check it out The burners in the stash, we about the cash We got females that got it like that The golden child's that bone the crowd See niggas in the place that bit my style Well I'm a singer, dancer, we bulletproof brothers Wu-Tang got the answer 'Cuz if I had a chance to do it again I will still keep the heat in my pants, uh Y'all be nice to the crack heads, everybody listen up I shot one of my bitches, the hoe ain't trick enough Word life to big screen Don, tapping dust-bones out With star-writers like I fucked Celine Dion Stuck everything that's the God's honest beyond We airin' niggas out that's the type shit that we on Official Wu-Tang head-banger Flood your space with big waves like you did in Sri Lanka Yo, I drink heavy gallons of Crew, play the big part Niggas got squid on the grill, selling kids Clarks Finesse notes, yo, the Guess on with the vest pose Yellow suede one matching hat with the gray gun Niggas be rhymin' for nothing, then my team pull up We all wore down y'all broke niggas stay frontin' Lines come digital stupid, plus ain't got no jury on Bet I'm still live and I'm coopin' Two of my silver-backs fun through a pack of your wolves Front on react and sippin' Cognac so relax dude Know I'm with these cracks dude Yo, one, two Yo, Dirt McGirt, solid tone smith with fifth shots Lick shots, leave your head like a Shaolin monk with six dots Brooklyn, zoo, zoo Brooklyn, zoo, zoo It's the return of Bin Laden, grab your armor Smash pretty boy niggas, crush they karma Eat bones with alligators, roll deep with my entourage My whole crew's fresh out the bars Diggler, a.k.a The Cab Driver Drop him off in the middle of fire Dirty Island, drag bodies to the murder land Knock niggas out hurtin' my hand I remember in the elevator we was playin' corners Now we play the corners and the cops is stayin' on us Staten's where the war is Where the court system's running out of warrants Where TNT be jumping out the Taurus For real I can't call it You see I love Lucy 'cuz she Lawless She's exactly like that 10304 is Snitch niggas swallow your tongue Already know the island I'm from And y'all don't want no problems with them We got a history, full of lightning victories Conceptual breakthrough it ain't no mystery Long vision, from giants in every way Rap czars, magnificent flows for every day From the East to the Ville, from the West to the hills Incredible rhymes, encouraging skills From rat packs, the smallest crews were enormous They hit 'em fast, with an effortless performance MCs start fleeing in flocks Especially those that's more sensitive to heat and shock We grindin', down to the bone my name grounded in stone I'm Mr Violence we loungin' with Chrome Mr Violence we lounge in his home, hit the housing on Rome Shining like a hundred thousand in stones Move mountains with poems, got a jones for dinero 160, my song, we throwin' elbows The hoes cling, sho thing, we know kings Only dime dikes, with minds right, we choose Queens Yeah we wild like rock stars who smash guitars Yo son split his face with the toast, he ain't Ghost It's no joke, iron coat, rifle with a scope One toke, brains float, shot to the throat Before the smoke hit, witness the killing Southern crime scene, body on the block Eyes open from the shock of being popped in the neck Yet he's still hella lit cigarette between his fingers Danger when you step into the chamber with the master Disaster, gotta blast ya, 'cuz I have ta The rat pack is back from the Island of Stat' Leave you cursed us 'cuz you worship the gat The first one to snap drunk off your Smirnoff Blow the bouncer's ear off, let him floss he the boss Handcuffed to the turntables like Wizard Theodore See it's pure, let it rain pearly ounces Bang him with the thing that hang from the trousers You don't want no drama, I'm flaming fast That nigga jumped up and did the Damon Dash