Lyrical Breakdown of Ice Cube - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Ice Cube" 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 "Ice Cube" 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 "Ice Cube" 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!
What you workin' with
That my facecard
That's your facecard
Cicero on the beat
Tie his motherfuckin' facecard
What you workin' with?
What you workin' with
I'm workin' with my facecard
Break your damn wrist cookin' up that straight hard
Yeah, and I'm goin' straight hard, dumb with the K
Then make bond on my face, 'cause I'm done with the case, beat it
Twelve-fifty, twelve-fifty, two bands on my shoes
Shoot a fifty, shoot another fifty, 'til we make the news
Went full petty in a minute, Asian bitch showed me her boobs
Wish for opps tellin' game, and they swipin' and start scammin'
I'm on Xannies in the Lamby, might do the dash and go crash it
I'm on perkies while I'm workin', I'm booted, got bad habits
I put blues on the jeweler, got VV's on top of baguettes
I'm the dapper don with that, I wear Dior, new Air Maxes
Four-four-forty-eight, we fax 'em
Thousand we made out the plastic
She tokin' on di*k like it's acid
I pull up in coupe, Jurassic
Wings, pterodactyl
I'm on a bean, pop a capsule
Rollie freeze, I'm Alaska
Servin' chicken platter like it's pasta
I want every dollar like Little Rascal
My daddy dead and I'm a bast*rd
I got a buck fifty, cut you like a Bronx nigga
Real swamp nigga, pump gon' make you jump, nigga
Boom, baow, two-step, DJ Unk, nigga, huh?
Yeah, in my black tee I still trump niggas
I hit licks in my black tee, I'm still a gold-digger
Take your chain and your Rollie, come up out your shoes, nigga
Grabbed my chain and my Rollie 'fore I went to school, nigga
I'm a walkin' ice maker, I wear nothin' but cubes
All my diamonds bling blaow, look like molly cubes
Ain't no tuckin' in my chain, I feel like Ice Cube
Got that 'stendo with my forty, I might make the news
Neighborhood crippin', all my homies got the blues
Lockin' Enz' in the pen, chain gang rule
He just got ten with a ten, everybody food
I popped a bean once again to match my attitude
I put them Forgis on that bitch to match my gratitude
I put a lift kit on my raps to lift my longitude
I bang a left, I bang a right, get out my latitude
Margiela steppin' on the radical, I serve you rabbit food
I watch my plays like Mark Cuban, got my eyes on every move
I just flooded two new Cubans just to make they eyes move
I'm a walking brick of dog food, with them bill jacks
Way I cut the brick in half, call my Longway lumberjack
Yeah, in my black tee I still trump niggas
I hit licks in my black tee, I'm still a gold-digger
Take your chain and your Rollie, come up out your shoes, nigga
Grabbed my chain and my Rollie 'fore I went to school, nigga
I'm a walkin' ice licker, I wear nothin' but cubes
All my diamonds bling blaow, look like molly cubes
Ain't no tuckin' in my chain, I feel like Ice Cube
Got that 'stendo with my forty, I might make the news