Lyrical Breakdown of Once Upon A Time In The Projects - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Once Upon A Time In The Projects" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Ice Cube weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Once Upon A Time In The Projects" 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 Ice Cube 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 Ice Cube's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Once Upon A Time In The Projects" not only celebrates Ice Cube'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!

Once upon a time in the projects, yo I damn near had to wreck a hoe I knocked on the door, "Who is it?" It's Ice Cube, come to pay a little visit to ya And what's up with them brothers in the parking lot She called 'em suckas, 'cause they smoke crack a lot I sat on the couch, but it wasn't stable And then I put my Nikes on the coffee table Her brother came in, he's into gang bangin' 'Cause he walked up and said "What set you claimin'?" I don't bang, I write the good rhymes The whole scenery reminded me of Good Times I don't like to feel that I'm put in a rut By a young punk, that needs to pull his pants up He threw up his set, then he was gone I'm thinkin' to myself, won't this girl bring her butt on? Her mother came in with a joint in her mouth And fired up the sess, it was sess no doubt She said, "Please excuse my house", and all that I said "yeah," 'cause I was buzzed from the contact Lookin' at a jacked-up black and white Her mom's fussin' 'cause the county check wasn't right She had another brother that was three years old That had a bad case of the runny nose He asked me who I was, then I had to pause It smelled like he took a dump in his little drawers I saw her sister, who really needs her butt kicked Only thirteen, and already pregnant I grabbed my forty out the bag, and took a swig 'Cause I was getting overwhelmed, by BeBe Kids They was runnin' and yellin' and playin' and cussin' and tellin' And look at this young punk bailin' I heard a knock on the door without the password And her moms got the twelve gauge Mossberg The brother said "Yo, what's for sale?" And her moms came out with a bag of yayo She made the drop, and got the twenty dollars From a smoked-out fool with ring around the collar The girl I was waitin' for came out I said, "Girl, I didn't know this was a crack house" I grabbed my coat, and suddenly "Stop, the police, don't move! Freeze! Or I'll kill ya!" The cop busted in I had a Mac-10 pointed at my dome And I said to myself, "Once again, it's on" He threw me on the carpet, and wasn't cuttin' no slack Jumped on my head and put his knee in my back First he tried to wrap me up, slap me up, rough me up They couldn't do it so they cuffed me up I said, "damn, how much abuse can a brotha take" 'Ey yo officer, you're making a big mistake Since I had on a shirt that said I was dope He thought I was selling base and couldn't hear my case He said, "get out my face" and musta had a grudge His reply, "tell that sad story to the judge" The girl I was wit' wasn't sayin' nothin' I said "'Ey Miss Thang you better tell him somethin'" She started draggin' and all of a sudden We all got tossed in a paddy wagon Now I beat the rap, but that ain't the point I had a warrant, so I spent two weeks in the joint Now the story you heard has one little object Don't get wit' a girl from the projects Yo man, them projects ain't no joke Loc, I'm tellin' you Especially the ones in Watts and South Central L.A. boy Don't mess around those projects The rats will get with your punk brown Yeah, you know it I wanna say what's up to my boy Sir Jinx for hookin' up the track You know what I'm sayin'? This goes out to the Lench Mob We'll be lynchin'