Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Southside" 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 "Southside" 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 "Southside" 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!
Southside on the track, yeah
Southside
Southside
Yeah
Strapped
I just got some stupid dome from this hoe from the Southside
Long live Troup, my OG man, that nigga from the Southside
Shout out Deezy and them loc's who crippin' on the Southside
I get bags in for the low and send them to the Southside
Yeah, I'm sellin' coke for real
I put the "d" in dope for real
Saint Laurent on my coat for real
That Draco, that Draco
I'm with the reds in Clayco
Shoutout to Clayhead, that nigga a real one
We had them bands in the neighborhood
Temp fade, new J's
All day, catch plays
White tee, dope boy
Move that dope, boy
Trappin' out a bando
Servin' out a window
Tryna run our mills up
That's what we pay the rent for
Fuck it up in the Gucci store, them M's in
Bad bitch lookin' like Bernice, I call her Slim Jim
I just want push start on my car
Shoutout the hood, they know I'm a god
They know we bang wherever we are
I just took these cuts on stage
Look at these VVS's in my chain
I'm doing better, I can't even complain
Bought it plain, then I blew out the brain
Birkin bag, make the bitch go insane
With the gang, I ain't switchin' the name
Paper tag, got me switchin' these lanes
Do anything to get me some chains
These niggas be fuckin' for fame
I just got some stupid dome from this hoe from the Southside
Long live Troup, my OG man, that nigga from the Southside
Shout out Deezy and them loc's who crippin' on the Southside
I get bags in for the low and send them to the Southside
Yeah, I'm sellin' coke for real
I put the "d" in dope for real
Saint Laurent on my coat for real
That Draco, that Draco
I'm with the reds in Clayco
Shoutout to Clayhead, that nigga a real one
We had them bands in the neighborhood
I'm doing shit that they wishing they could
I'm the frontrunner, break right through the hood
They hated on me, but it's still all good
Draco on me, and it's still all wood
I'm on probation, they let off a fool
They on my drip, tryna see what I do
They takin' notes, tryna study my moves
They tryna do what I do
All-Star weekend, I was gettin' the pack in
Heard you got your shit took, nigga you lackin'
Big body Benz "beep, beep" when it back in
Real street niggas buyin' bags with the backends
These niggas ain't authentic, they actin'
And I ain't get to the money, they cappin'
What happened?
I thought you was a real one?
Solitary stones in my ear, these the clear ones
These diamonds dancin' too loud in my ear
So I don't hear them
My homie got the stick, I got the glizzy
We don't fear them
These niggas don't wanna play with us
I swear that we gon' kill them
I just got some stupid dome from this hoe from the Southside
Long live Troop, my OG man, that nigga from the Southside
Shout out Deezy and them Lo's who crippin' on the Southside
I get bags in for the low and send them to the Southside
Yeah, I'm sellin' coke for real
I put the "d" in dope for real
Saint Laurent on my coat for real
That Draco, that Draco
I'm with the reds in Clayco
Shoutout to Clayhead, that nigga a real one
We had them bands in the neighborhood
Strapped