Welcome to the detailed analysis of "No Time" 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 "No Time" 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 "No Time" 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!
I got, no time for fake niggaz
Just sip some Cristal with these real niggaz
From East to West coast spread love niggaz (that's right)
And while you niggaz talk shit we count bank figures (say what?)
I got, no time for fake niggaz (uh-uh, uh-uh)
Just sip some Cristal with these real niggaz (uh-huh, uh-huh)
From East to West coast spread love niggaz (that's right)
And while you niggaz talk shit we count bank figures (he-heh)
[1] ("How you figure that your team can effect my cream?" - B.I.G.)
I got, no time for fake niggaz (uh-uh, uh-uh)
Just sip some Cristal with these real niggaz (uh-huh, uh-huh)
[2] ("I rely on Bed-Stuy to shut it down if I die" - B.I.G.)
From East to West coast spread love niggaz (ha hahh, that's right)
And while you niggaz talk shit we count bank figures (let's go)
Yeauhhh, I Momma, Miss Ivana
Usually rock the Prada, sometimes Gabbana
Stick you for your cream and your riches
Zsa Zsa Gabor, Demi Moore, Prince Diane and all them rich bitches
Puff Daddy pump the Hummer for the summer
I follow -- in the E-Class with the goggles
96 models, Bad Click on the stroll
(Tell em how we roll) Cruise control
Nuttin make a woman feel betta
Than Berrettas and Amarettas, butta leathers and mad cheddaz
Chillin in a Benz with my ami-gos
Tryin to stick a nigga for his pe-sos
If you say so's, then I'm the same chick
That you wanna get with, lick up in my twat
Gotta hit the spot, if not don't test the poom poom
Nanny nanny, punanny donny, heyyy!
Heyyy, no time for fake niggaz (uh-uh, uh-uh)
Just sip some Cristal with these real niggaz (uh-huh, uh-huh)
From East to West coast spreadin love niggaz (that's right)
And while you niggaz talk shit we count bank figures (he heh)
[1] ("How you figure that your team can effect my cream?" - B.I.G.)
I got, no time for fake niggaz (uh-uh, uh-uh)
Just sip some Cristal with these real niggaz (uh-huh, uh-huh)
[2] ("I rely on Bed-Stuy to shut it down if I die" - B.I.G.)
From East to West coast spreadin love niggaz (that's right)
And while you niggaz talk shit we count bank figures
[Verse Two: Puffy (Kim moaning in the background),
How you like it baby? Uhh, from the front
Uhh, from the back, give that ass a smack
Bet your man won't do it like that
Can't work the middle, plus his thing too little
Let me grab your ta-ta's, do the cha-cha
Work down your ta-ta's do the cha-cha
Make you scream Pa-pa
You da best, Da Da
Now watch mama, go up and down dick to jaw crazy
Uhh! Say my name baby (okay)
Before you nut, I'ma dribble down your butt cheeks
Make you wiggle, then giggle just a little
I'm drinkin babies, then I cracks for the Mercedes
Act shady, and feel my three-eighty
Or the raven, oohwee I see
Your girl ain't a "Freak Like Me", or Adina
Huh, can't fade the rhinoceros of rap (say what?)
Lil' Kim pussy (uhh) how preposterous is that? (ha hah!)
[Chorus: subst 'Got' for 'Heyyy', minus B.I.G.
Uhh, right back at cha, the one Cleopatra (say what?)
Diggin in your stash
(Niggaz think they gonna get some ass) No money money
No licky licky -- fuck the dicky dicky
And the quickie, gimme your loot
Your Mac-11 then shoot
Your game ain't sweet, John Paul peeps
Shouldn't compete, if you can't wet it, forget it
Don't sweat it, I bet it'd
Make ya cum smooth if you let it
Huh, you can't stop a bitch from ballin
Ha-ha to la-la to drive-by's they be callin, and you ain't know
While you be kickin that old shit (talk to me) we makin hits
Platinum and gold shit (we don't stop)
I stay draped in diamonds and pearls
Beside every man is a Bad Girl
(That's right... nine-six Bad Boy c'mon)