Lyrical Breakdown of Bustaclip - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Bustaclip" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Lil' Flip weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Bustaclip" 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 Lil' Flip 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 Lil' Flip's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Bustaclip" not only celebrates Lil' Flip'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!
Bustaclip, bustaclip, yeah
Bustaclip, bustaclip, yeah
Bustaclip, bustaclip, yeah
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(Let's take it back to the streets, nigga)
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(East coast)
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(West coast)
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(Midwest)
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(To the dirty, dirty)
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(It's Flip Gates)
Bustaclip, bustaclip, yeah
(The number one fly boy)
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(I'm strapped, nigga)
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(Let's get it poppin')
I got a brand new Mac, I hope this bitch don't jam
I had to bulletproof the Lam, I learned that from Cam
You want a thang, got 'em yams go straight to MoneyGram
I'm from the hood so you know I'm down wit' any money scam
Black glocks, white glocks spit like sheet rock
You know a drank on me, this concert gon' stop
A lot of cops at the scene tryin' to shut shit down
You was a nobody but now you famous now
I be out in chi-town wit' some real OG's
Matter of fact one of them had dinner wit' me
You gotta play by the rules when you on these streets
You lil' niggas tryin' to mimic what you seein' on beef, you better
Bustaclip, bustaclip, yeah
Bustaclip, bustaclip, yeah
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(What my gangster said)
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(What my gangster said, let's do it)
Bustaclip, bustaclip, yeah
Bustaclip, bustaclip, yeah
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(I can't deny it, I'm a straight rider)
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(You don't wanna beef wit' me)
I know some Long Beach Crips, I know some Englewood Bloods
And you can ask Billy fans, I got Cali love
I got a strap waitin' for me everytime I land
And just to send you a message, I'll clap your man
Now he under white sheets like the Klu Klux Klan
You lil' boys shouldn't beef wit' a grown ass man
I got stripes in the hood, I put in work fo' real
And mentioning me will get you put in dirt fo' real
On that gramma, yeah, bitch, you carry weight
'Cause I'm on this Alize and I carry cake
I came back to the streets, I had to let y'all know
And by the way my new deal worth 8.4 so I'mma
Bustaclip, bustaclip, yeah
Bustaclip, bustaclip, yeah
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(What my gangster said)
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(What my gangster said, let's go)
Bustaclip, bustaclip, yeah
Bustaclip, bustaclip, yeah
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(I'm strapped nigga, I'm strapped nigga)
Bustaclip, bustaclip, yeah
(I'm strapped nigga, what about you?)
This for my Nap-town niggas, all my G-town killas
The ones wit' the blow and them 18 wheelers
Cross the state lines wit' it on them waist line cocked
Cross lope and you know it's goin' down
40 cal, 50 cal, what you workin' wit', nigga?
I'm in a Maserati, what you swervin' in, nigga?
And when I'm out in Cleveland, I'm fuckin' wit' X
It's been 'bout 5 years, he still holdin' my tech
I be in the gun range like everyday
You better pray no drama ever come my way
I'm in the studio now wit' a gun on my hip
And I'm tired of talkin' 'bout the beef wit' me and you betta
Bustaclip, bustaclip, yeah
Bustaclip, bustaclip, yeah
Bustaclip, bustaclip, yeah
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(What my gangster said)
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(This some shit for the streets, baby)
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(We bust a clip everyday)
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(You know what it is)
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(I do what I wanna do, nigga)
When I feel like it, nigga
A track and production's on the muthafuckin' track
Full effect is the muthafuckin' future, nigga
Cross them, niggas, I shoot you, nigga
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(And any nigga)
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(Who got a gun and a chain, nigga)
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(And that dough, that's a true D-boy)
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(Can't be a dope boy without a gun and a chain)
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(Make sure you got them extra clips, nigga)
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(But on the real nigga)
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(Don't hate on a nigga when you see me pull up on that Maserati)
Bustaclip, bustaclip
(I'm done wit' the muthafuckin' Maybach)
Fuck that shit, nigga
I'm on some drop top flashy
'Flash Gordon' type shit
Biatch, bustaclip