Lyrical Breakdown of Hell Yea - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

  • Lyric Overview: Witness how Gucci Mane weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Hell Yea" 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 Gucci Mane 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 Gucci Mane's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Hell Yea" not only celebrates Gucci Mane'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!

A thousand bales of that mid shit, hell yeah This that shit that get your kids rich, hell yeah Hundred bags of that kush shit, hell yeah This that President Bush shit, hell yeah A thousand bales of that mid shit, hell yeah This that shit that get your kids rich, hell yeah Hundred bags of that kush shit, hell yeah This that President Bush shit, hell yeah This that Obama kush shit My girlfriend think she President Bush bitch Hell yeah, and I'm gone off that lean shit My brother Duke keep on sending me that green shit Fuck jail, Gucci time and I'm hood rich I'm in that zone six, I throw it like the first pitch My yellow 'Rari in the front and I parked it A black chick in some heels match the carpet I'm pulling up to the club like I own it Ain't with that bullshit, Gucci don't condone it My tolerance get low with the flexing I woke up, bought my main chick a Lexus A thousand bales of that mid shit, hell yeah This that shit that get your kids rich, hell yeah Hundred bags of that kush shit, hell yeah This that President Bush shit, hell yeah A thousand bales of that mid shit, hell yeah This that shit that get your kids rich, hell yeah Hundred bags of that kush shit, hell yeah This that President Bush shit, hell yeah I be the Brick Squad youngin', leave you stanking like a Funyun On these other rap niggas, toe like a bunion I'm BS and you BS, but I'm Brick Squad and you bullshit Pistol like my chaperone, we going on a school trip Places that you never seen, blowing on that stupid green Rolling on a stupid bean, hit the scene in limousines Codeine, promethazine, diamonds in my pinky ring Nigga what the fuck you mean? Brick Squad dream team I got money to blow, naw I ain't Drizzy Money make the world go 'round, that's why I'm dizzy Standing behind Gucci, Flock, they like who is he? Slim Dunkin in this motherfucker, cut the cheese and A thousand bales of that mid shit, hell yeah This that shit that get your kids rich, hell yeah Hundred bags of that kush shit, hell yeah This that President Bush shit, hell yeah A thousand bales of that mid shit, hell yeah This that shit that get your kids rich, hell yeah Hundred bags of that kush shit, hell yeah This that President Bush shit, hell yeah It's big Gucci, excuse me while I ball Until my release my nigga, no lights out Lights out, creep on in silence Why do I promote violence? While nonviolent, while my tattoo smiling To remind me of the time they robbed me With no problems, now my problem solving Is revolving around all these continents And my company stretch from here to Compton To Bouldercrest, but Burger Hut'll say Brompton That's something to those who have nothing No bluffing, Brick Squad no cuffing It's Gucci! A thousand bales of that mid shit, hell yeah This that shit that get your kids rich, hell yeah Hundred bags of that kush shit, hell yeah This that President Bush shit, hell yeah A thousand bales of that mid shit, hell yeah This that shit that get your kids rich, hell yeah Hundred bags of that kush shit, hell yeah This that President Bush shit, hell yeah