Welcome to the detailed analysis of "22 Two's" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how undefined weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "22 Two's" 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 undefined 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 undefined's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "22 Two's" not only celebrates undefined'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!
Yo, what's up everybody
This is Marie Davis, "Mad Wednesdays"
We here to have a good time
Wait a minute, I see my man over there Jay-Z
Jay-Z, Dame Dash let me here that little tape of yours
And it's phat
Why don't you come up here and kick a little freestyle?
Put that champagne down
And kick a little freestyle for me tonight
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Can I kick it?
(Yes you can)
Can I kick it?
(Yes you can)
Can I kick it?
(Yes you can)
Ya'll muthafuckas must ain't hear that Tribe Called Quest
Let's do it again
Can I kick it?
(Yes you can)
Can I kick it?
(Yes you can)
Can I kick it?
(Yes you can)
Well I'm gone
Check this out
Too much west coast dick lickin'
And too many niggas on a mission
Doin ya best Jay-Z rendition
Too many rough muthafuckas
I got my suspicions
That you're just fish in a pool of sharks nigga, listen
Too many bitches wanna be ladies
So if you a hoe, I'ma call you a hoe
Too many bitches is shady
Too many ladies give these niggas too many chances
Too many brothas wanna be lovers
Don't know what romance is
Too many bitches stuck up from
Too many sexual advances
No questions, Jay-Z got too many answers
I been around this block too many times
Rock too many rhymes, cocked too many nines
Too, to all my brothers it ain't too late
To come together
Cause too much black and too much love
Equal forever
I don't follow any guidelines
Cause too many niggas ride mines
So I change styles every two rhymes
What the fuck
That's twenty-two twos (too, to) for ya'll muthafuckas out there
Naw, mean
Shall I continue?
Check it out, what?
Can I kick it?
(Yes you can)
Can I kick it?
(Yes you can)
Can I kick it?
(Yes you can)
Well I'm gone...
Yo, yo, yo
Copped to reach my quota
Push rock, roll up smooth-like on ya
Whole groove like hold up
Swole up... too many faggot niggas
Clockin my spendin', exercisin' your
Gay-like minds like Richard Simmons
If you can catch Jay right on a late night
Without the eight right
Maybe you can test my weight, right?
I dip, spit quicker than you ever seen
Administer pain, next to ministers screaming ya name
At your wake as I peak in
Look in ya casket, feelin' sarcastic,
"Look at 'em, still sleepin' "
Ya never ready, forever petty
Minds stay petty, mine's thinking longevity until I'm seventy
Livin' heavily, FUCK Felony after Felony
What nigga ya broke, what the fuck you gone tell me
Ooooooooooh
Jay-Z, Jay-Z, now you know this is a phat track (aiight)
Now this is comin' out on your new album
On Roc-A-Fella Records in '96? (no doubt, no doubt)
Well, it is definitely the bomb
But you know, I do wanna say something to you
I know you been having a lotta problems with the law
But I know you innocent
And I'm behind you one hundred percent
Mad Wednesdays, Rudy King, DJ Ace
Dame Dash, Roc-A-Fella Records (my man Clark Kent)
We all behind you
You can come back anytime
Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute
Ace, turn that music down
I smell some reefer
Now you see, that's why our people don't have anything
Because we don't know how to go in places and act properly
(SHUT THE FUCK UP!)
Wait a minute, wait a minute
Who told me shut the 'f' up, who told me to shut the 'f' up
Get him outta here
I am not gonna continue this show until you throw him out
Get him out right now, then I'ma continue my speech
Thank you, he's outta here now, now like I was sayin'
We gotta build our own businesses;
We gotta get our own record companies goin'
Like Roc-A-Fella Records...