Lyrical Breakdown of Body Count - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Body Count" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Ice-T weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Body Count" 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-T 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-T's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Body Count" not only celebrates Ice-T'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!
{Ice-T after your tremendous success on your past albums
Some have said you've sold out because of use of
Rock n' Roll in your music, how do you reply to that?
You see a lot of people don't realize that you know
Rock n' Roll is truly black music, it was created by
Chuck Berry, Little Richard, an' black people like that
Who started it off back in the day you know and as far as
I'm concerned, music is music, I don't look at it is Rock
R n' B or that kind of stuff, I just look at it as music you know
And anybody who said that I sold out, they can basically suck my
Dick, 'cause I really don't give a fuck about that shit, you know
But I do what I like and I happen to like Rock n' Roll an' I feel
Sorry for anybody who only listens one form of music, now right now
I got my own rock band, it's got to jump off, it's real black hardcore
Band called Bodycount, and a, on some of the records I'm like layin' Some vocals on it and a, I got a tape of it right here, yo, check it out}
{You know sometimes I sit at home, you know
An' I watch T.V. and I wonder what it would be like
To live some place like you know
Piccass, B Show, Ozzy and Harriet
You know what cops coming got your
Cat out of the tree
All your friends died of old age, but you see
I live in South Central Los Angeles
And unfortunately}
Shit ain't like that
It's real fucked up
God damn, what a brother gotta do
To get a message through
To the red, white and blue?
What, I gotta die?
Before you realize
I was a brother with open eyes
The world's insane
While you drink champagne
And I'm livin' in black rain
You try to ban the A.K.
I got ten of 'em stashed
With a case of hand grenades
Tell us what to do
Fuck you
Tell us what to do
Fuck you
Tell us what to do
Fuck you
Tell us what to do
Fuck you
You know what to do
If a kid got killed on the way to school
Or a cop shot your kid in the back yard
Shit would hit the fan motherfuckin'
It would hit real hard
I hear it every night, another gun fight
The tension mounts on with the body count
Yo Big Master Phee
Take these motherfuckers to South Central
Yea, fuck that
I hear it every night, another gun fight
The tension mounts on with the body count
{Last weekend
Thirty-seven kids killed in a gang warfare
In my backyard}
No, no, no
{Yo Aunty Sei, take these motherfuckers home}
Yea
Yea we in a house body count
Four nineteen ninety one motherfucker
I hear it every night, another gun fight
The tension mounts on with the body count
God damn what a brother gotta do
To get a message through
To the red, white and you?
What, I gotta die?
Before you realize
I was a nigga with open eyes
The world's insane
While you drink champagne
And I'm livin' in black rain
Don't you hear the guns?
You stupid, dumb, dick suckin'
Bum politicians
Tell us what to do
Fuck you
Tell us what to do
Fuck you
The tension mounts