Lyrical Breakdown of Super Ugly - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Super Ugly" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Jay-Z weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Super Ugly" 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 Jay-Z 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 Jay-Z's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Super Ugly" not only celebrates Jay-Z'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!
I got myself a gun
Yeah, I got myself a gun
Brooklyn stand up, I got myself a gun
But really, I don't need the heat
Your heart pump project Kool-Aid, you're sweet
I don't gotta two-way you gays
This is not beef, this is rap homie
I don't have a scratch on me
You feel Jay soft, rip Jay off
Damn I'm only worth over a hundred million
Look, I got beef with like a hundred children
Niggas with pink suits (faggot) tryna get cute
You a little outta line homie, don't let the 9 homie
Put you out your mind homie, just rhyme homie
Kick your little lies I kick my real facts
Like you sneaking out the back of the Source Soundlab
We wasn't chasing you, we had a taping too
We came through to do our one-two thing
It wasn't a Roc-A-Fella come-through thing
'Cause if it was on like that, I would come through Queens
With Queens niggas, you know how I do
Look, I got more shooters in Queensbridge than you
Niggas'll tie you up on the Colosseum roof
And open beer bottles off the boy chipped tooth
Look here
I got myself a gun
Yeah, I got myself a gun
Listen, I'm the J, the A, to the fuck this broad
This nigga never sold Aspirin, how you Escobar?
Had to buy your chain back last time you got robbed
The nerve of this coward nigga, oh my God
And I don't rap rumors or innuendos
I bring it to you live, lift up your window
Let the public peek in, see your dirty laundry
Y'all dont want me to continue
Super ugly
I don't give a fuck!
All I really know is your ho wants to be with me
And she ain't playing, and what I'm saying
She creeps with me and sleeps between the sheets
Me and the boy A.I. got more in common than just balling and rhyming
Get it? More in Carmen
I came in your Bentley backseat, skeeted in your Jeep
Left condoms on your baby seat
Here nigga, the gloves is off, the love is done
It's whatever, whenever, however nigga - one
And since you infatuated with saying that gay shit
Yes you was kissing my dick when you was kissing that bitch
Nasty shit, you thought I was boning Renette
You calling Carm' a hundred times, I was boning her neck
You got a baby by the broad, you can't disown her yet
When does your lies end, when does the truth begin
When does reality set in or does it not matter
Gotta hurt I'm your baby mama's favorite rapper
And ask your current girl, she know what's up
Holla at a real nigga, Jigga
(I don't give a fuck!)