Lyrical Breakdown of Tell 'Em Bitch - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Tell 'Em Bitch" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Kool Keith weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Tell 'Em Bitch" 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 Kool Keith 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 Kool Keith's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Tell 'Em Bitch" not only celebrates Kool Keith'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!
[Kool Keith]
Kool Keith back up in this motherfucker
You know what I'm sayin, you know what I'm sayin
I'd like to tell all these motherfuckers
I'd like to tell all you motherfuckers, about theyself
About theyself, about what they think they are
About what they think they are
Motherfuckers ain't shit, you ain't shit
Fuck gold and platinum and jewelry
Diamonds glistenin red, I'm still the overgrown boy freak man
Fall asleep, still piss in the bed
Ask your girl nigga, I piss on your head
If you're neo and unfunky, I'm guaranteed usually
Ten grand or more a show
But for five or six I'm ready to piss in your dreads
Who's ready to handle the confunction, jazz
And everybody with they first new trendy equipment
could press the KEYS, and kiss my ASS
No prestigious toilets and golden bathroom trimmings
Dress your bitch up like Batwoman, and shit on her mask
Dimepieces run with the boring niggaz
My sex life, I piss on top of your cash
Your money talk, I wipe my ass up with your Cottonelle nigga
Rappin against me, you ain't shit
My job is to make your doofy-ass baseball caps fit
Pimple-faced bastard, watch who you rap with
And cover your motherfuckin buttcheeks with Chapstick
I'm a grown-ass man, you can suck mine
And that talk behind my back circle shit
Superstar gassed up niggaz smokin that glass dick
My first name is microphone, I call you last to spit
Bra and panties under your button up
Don't come around wit'cha ass hangin out, teasin me with fake tits
I'm the celebrity destroyer, I defecate on your shoulderblades
I jerk off on anybody that think they good
Grab the subway train, and drop turds on your bitch
Hit Philadelphia, grab a cheesesteak and hang out with Mitch
About two million dollars I fucked up
Hotel suites, Pave rings and girls and shit
Indoor rappin mansion-ass nigga
Come outside from that old hideaway bodyguards, watch you shit
I don't care, I enjoy myself you scared son of a bitch
Fuck the buckets and V.I.P. rooms
Posin with one Moet bottle, and a big-ass clique
Plast fast motherfuckers standin on wooden legs
Amateur niggaz go down on cheap tape
What you think that bullshit gon' stick?
Kool Keith, signin off this MOTHERFUCKER
Let you motherfuckers KNOW
I tell you straight, I'll come to your motherfuckin SHOW