Lyrical Breakdown of John - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "John" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Rick Ross feat. Lil Wayne weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "John" 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 Rick Ross feat. Lil Wayne 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 Rick Ross feat. Lil Wayne's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "John" not only celebrates Rick Ross feat. Lil Wayne'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!

Wuh Yeah Hooh Fo' fo' bulldog, my muthafucking pet I point it at you and tell that muthafucker fetch I'm fucking her good, she got her legs on my neck I get pussy, mouth and ass, call that bitch triple threat When I was in jail she let me call her collect But if she get greedy, I'ma starve her to death Top down, it's upset Been fucking the world and nigga I aint cum yet You fuck with me wrong, I knock your head off your neck The flight too long, I got a bed on the jet The guns are drawn and I aint talking 'bout a sketch I pay these niggas with a reality check Prepare for the worst but still praying for the best This game is a bitch I got my hand up her dress The money don't sleep so Weezy can't rest An AK47 is my fucking address, huh I'm not a star, somebody lied I got a Chopper in the car I got a chopper in the car I got a chopper in the car Yeah Load up the choppers like it's December 31st Roll up and cock it and hit them niggas Where it hurts If I die today, remember me like John Lennon Buried in Louis, I'm talking all brown linen, huh Big black nigga, in an icey watch Shoes on the coupe, bitch I got a Nike shop Counts the profits you could bring 'em in a Nike box Grinding in my Jordans kick em off they Might high, swish! I'm swimming in the yellow bitch, boss In a red 911 looking devilish Red beam make a bitch nigga sit down Thought it were bullet proof till he got hit the fifth time Drop Palmolive in a nigga dope Make it come back even harder than before Baby I'm the only one that paid your car Notes Well connected, got killers off in Chicago I'm not a star, somebody lied I got a chopper in the car I got a chopper in the car I got a chopper in the car Load up the choppers like it's December 31st Roll up and cock it and hit them niggas Where it hurts If I die today, remember me like John Lennon Buried in Louis, I'm talking all brown linen, huh Talk stupid get ya head popped I got that Esther, bitch I'm red fox Big bee's, Red Sox I get money to kill time, dead clocks Your f-cking with a n-gga who don't give a fuck Empty the clip than roll the window up Pussy niggas sweet, you niggas center bun I'm in a red bitch, she said she finna cum 200 thou on a chain, I don't need a piece That banana clip, let Chiquita speak Dark shades, Eazy E Five letters, YMCMB Bitch ass nigga, pussy ass nigga I see ya looking, what ya looking ass nigga? You know the rules, kill em all and keep Moving If I died today it'd be a holiday I'm not a star, somebody lied I got a chopper in the car So don't make it come alive Rip yo ass apart than I put myself together YMCMB, double M, we rich forever The bigger the bullet the more that bitch gon bang Red on the wall, Basquiat when I paint Red Lamborghini till I gave it to my bitch My first home invasion, pocket gain and 40 bricks Son of a bitch, then I made a great escape Ain't it funny momma, only son be baking cakes Pull up in the sleigh, hop out like I'm santa claus Niggas gather round, got gifts for all of y'all Take it home and let it bubble that's the Double up If you get in trouble that just mean you fucking up, nigga It's a cold World I need a burt to call a Wood, I call the place mutherfucker hooliwood I'm not a star, somebody lied, I got a Chopper in the car Yeah