Lyrical Breakdown of The Recipe (Black Hippy Remix) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "The Recipe (Black Hippy Remix)" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Kendrick Lamar weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "The Recipe (Black Hippy Remix)" 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 Kendrick Lamar 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 Kendrick Lamar's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "The Recipe (Black Hippy Remix)" not only celebrates Kendrick Lamar'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!
Fuck Black Hippy, nigga
I invented the recipe
It's a beautiful day, I guess
For a bitch to roll with Ab-Soul, I guess
Pretty chick, lemme see them breasts
E.T. O.G. from the weed clinic (Soulo)
Solo, but I'm never alone (that's right)
I stay high and I'm powerful (Soulo)
West Side (easy call)
I got three eyes, man, I see y'all
All I do is kill shit, ICU
Party with a few girls at USC
It's 82 degrees and my top off and they top off
I'm gettin' topped off (Soul)
Top Dawg
Women, weed, and weather, what more can I say?
To live and die in LA, spend a week on Venice Beach
I'm 2Pac and Biggie Smalls
Every mornin', nigga, I get blazed, ayy
Women, weed, and weather
Nigga, if you're bored, come and join the wave, ayy
Girl, what is your name? 'Cause I'm feelin' your frame
Can I see what you 'bout? Uh
A lil' somethin' in your rear
Lil' somethin' in your mouth
Lil' somethin' on ya couch, uh
Know what I'm talkin' bout?
Bring the coffins out
'Cause I killed it
I done drilled it
She said she like it from the back, like a real bitch, uh
She swallowed my pride, I damn near cried
Yo, I can't reply, she curled my toes and crossed my eyes
But when you got the recipe it's no surprise
Bad hoes' panties get left behind
I want yo' behind, and
You might catch me in Atlanta lookin' like a boss
New Orleans and then Miami, party in New York
Texas, I be screwed up, Chi-Town, I be really pimpin'
But nothin' like my hometown, I'm forever livin'
Women, weed, and weather (they come for)
Women, weed, and weather
For the women, weed, and weather
(From all around the world for)
Women, weed, and weather
Got that women, weed, and weather
Don't it sound clever? Come and play
Wh-What more can I say? W-Welcome to LA
Uh, my nigga said he wanna fly out to get him some
Three W's, only for a three-day run
Bitch, take them motherfuckin' panties off, you ain't no nun
Shit, I be livin' in the sky every time I ride by them hoes
Ribbon In The Sky on the radio 'cause Stevie know I control
Let it breath, I control, California livin' 'til I am old
You want to be on, to peak on the charts
So the peons can be gone and pee on their hearts
She in the coupe, she in the Neon
'Cause she on the BS before we can start, uh
Fuck with a nigga, ride with a nigga
And I'm known, priority order: me
Hennessy, and for my niggas, OG Killa
'Call it Jason Voorhees, boy, he on his job
Boy, he sure be havin' the marks on they mark
Pretty bitches and tire marks
Let 'em inhale the pipe exhaust
Let 'em reveal how much it cost for this life
Controllin' my vice? No way, hell nah, uh-uh
If I'm wrong, I don't wanna be right
You want to be on, to peak on the charts
So the peons can be gone and pee on their hearts
Women, weed, weather, it's not my fault
That it's 82 degrees and my top peeled off
You might catch me in Atlanta lookin' like a boss
New Orleans and then Miami, party in New York
Texas, I be screwed up, Chi-Town, I be really pimpin'
But nothin' like my hometown, I'm forever livin'
Women, weed, and weather (they come for)
Women, weed, and weather
For the women, weed, and weather
(From all around the world for)
Women, weed, and weather
Got that women, weed, and weather
Don't it sound clever? Come and play
Wh-What more can I say? W-Welcome to...
Jay Rock got the recipe
Fly hoes wanna roll, I guess (I guess)
Everybody know I got that yola (yola)
Ask Keisha, she'll confess (uh)
I wake up then I bake up
With a bad bitch, she ain't got on no make up, uh
Medicated trees, my nigga
No tellin' where the high gon' take us, uh
Three W's, I'm at the W
She got double D's, 'bout to bring trouble through
OG Hennessy get the panties wet
I'm tryna dive in her swimming pool
Left stroke, right stroke, what's the best stroke?
Guess throw kush smoke all down her throat (uh)
And we blows all kind of 'dro
Cali' got the best, so act like you know, nigga
You might catch me in Atlanta lookin' like a boss
New Orleans and then Miami, party in New York
Texas, I be screwed up, Chi-Town, I be really pimpin'
But nothin' like my hometown, I'm forever livin'
Women, weed, and weather (they come for)
Women, weed, and weather
For the women, weed, and weather
(From all around the world for)
Women, weed, and weather
Got that women, weed, and weather
Don't it sound clever? Come and play
Wh-What more can I say? W-Welcome to LA