Lyrical Breakdown of Two Words - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Two Words" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

  • Lyric Overview: Witness how Kanye West weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Two Words" 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 Kanye West 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 Kanye West's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Two Words" not only celebrates Kanye West'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!

We in the streets, playa, get ya mail

It's only two places you end up, either dead or in jail

Still nowhere to go

Still nowhere to go

Now throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes

Everybody, fuck that

Still nowhere to go

Still nowhere to go

Two words, United States, no love, no breaks

Low brow, high stakes, crack smoke, black folks

Big Macs, fat folks, ecstasy capsules

Presidential scandals, everybody move

Two words, Mos Def, K. West, hot shit

Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this

Game 'pon lock shit, gun 'pon cock shit

We won't stop shit, everybody move

Two words, BK, NY, Bed Stuy

Too harsh, too hungry, too many, that's why

These streets know game, can't ball, don't play

Heavy traffic, one lane, everybody move

Two words, Mos Def, Black Jack, hot shit

Calm down, get back, ghetto people, got this

Game 'pon lock, gun 'pon cock

We won't stop, everybody move

Now throw your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes

Everybody, fuck that

Still nowhere to go

Still nowhere to go

And keep your hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes ('til they reach the sky)

Everybody, fuck that

Still nowhere to go

Still nowhere to go

Two words, Chi-town, South Side, worldwide

'Cause I rep that 'til I fuckin' die

One neck two chains, one waist two gats

One wall, 20 plaques, dues paid, gimme that

I am limelight, Blueprint, five mics

Go-Getters rhyme like should've been signed twice

Most imitated, Grammy nominated

Hotel accommodated, cheerleader prom-dated

Barbershop player-hated, mom-and-pop bootlegged it

Felt like it rained 'til the roof caved in

Two words, Chi-town raised me crazy

So I live by two words, "Fuck you, pay me"

Screamin', "Jesus save me"

You know how the game be, I can't let 'em change me

'Cause on judgment day, you gon' blame me

Look, God, it's the same me

And I basically know now, we get racially profiled

Cuffed up and hosed down, pimped up and ho'd down

Plus I got a whole city to hold down

From the bottom, so the top's the only place to go now

Now throw ya hands up hustlers, busters, boosters, hoes

Everybody, fuck that

Still nowhere to go

Still nowhere to go

Two words, freeway, two letters, A-R

Turn y'all rap niggas to two words, fast runners

Like Jackie Joyner, you better sleep with your burner

The heat skeet, blow a reef through your car, my God

Two words, no guns, break arms

Break necks, break backs, Steven Seagal

Free, young boss, freshman of the Roc

With the beef in the pot, Jay sent for his dogs to brawl

Forget your squad, better fend for yourself

Have you screamin' out four words, "Send for the law", uh

Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded

Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad

Red, white, blue, black (throw your hands up)

Calm down, move back

Motherfuckers askin', "Who is that?"

You know it's the almighty Black Jack

Mos Def, K. West

Ghetto people, get this shit off your chest

North to the south, to the east, to the west

Black Jack Johnson, it's no contest

(High) and show it to 'em like