Lyrical Breakdown of In This House - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "In This House" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Lil Wayne weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "In This House" 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 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 Lil Wayne's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "In This House" not only celebrates 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!
Actin' like they killers, but them niggas just some hoes
We act like this a studio, this really just a trap
Everything we got, we had to whip it out the bowl
Before we shake your hand, we'd rather slap you with the strap
A million cash in hunnids, now they bring it to the door (Racks)
20k for a coat that I ain't even wore
This bitch so bad, I let her shop, I made 'em close the store
She think she tricking me, but bitch don't know my pockets swole
(The money)
Big bankroll, top floor South Beach (Top)
Long money Gucci, ask your bitch 'bout me (Ask)
Penthouse suite, four hoes, two weeks
And all my shooters shootin; .223's 'bout me, wop
Pick 'em with the AK-47
Three-sixty-five, twenty-four seven
Percocet got a nigga's nose sweaty
But all the ho shit still so smelly
Belch wrong, get your throat slashed
Nigga, broke ass, where's your cash?
Nigga, Santa Claus with no bag
Nigga, you a ho-ho-ho ass, nigga
(Hoes in this house, there's some hoes in this house)
(There's some hoes in this house
There's some hoes in this house)
Nigga, you a ho-ho-ho ass, nigga
Pick 'em with the AK-47
Three-sixty-five, twenty-four seven
Percocet got a nigga's nose sweaty
But all the ho shit still so smelly
Belch wrong, get your throat slashed
Nigga, broke ass, where's your cash?
Nigga, Santa Claus with no bag
Nigga, you a ho-ho-ho ass, nigga
Boy, you been a ho
I remember, ho
You ain't foolin' Weezy F, and that's friend or foe
Tell them hoes in the house we kickin' in the door
He a ho and she a ho, now that's too many hoes
Boy you been a ho since Arsenio
Fuckin' bitch, put her in the figure four
Scope on the gun, better visual
Silencer make the bullets tippy-toe
I don't give a fuck, never gave a fuck
'Cause I always knew that a better day'd come
Haven't been asleep, seven day run
Never knew how a Chevrolet run
Ice Cube, Eazy-E, Ren, and Dre
I am the new NWA
Nigga with a AK-47
Three-sixty-five, twenty-four seven
Take lives like students took lessons
Jail time, felt like it took seconds
I'm a Goodfella, was a dope seller
All these ho niggas must be Hochella
(There's some hoes in this house
There's some hoes in this house)
(There's some hoes in this house
There's some hoes in this house)
Three-sixty-five, twenty-four seven
You a ho-ho-ho ass, nigga
Nigga with a AK-47
Three-sixty five, twenty-four seven
Percocet got a nigga's nose sweaty
But all the ho shit still so smelly
Nigga with a AK-47
Three-sixty five, twenty-four seven
Percocet got a nigga's nose sweaty
But all the ho shit still so smelly
Belch wrong, get your throat slashed
Nigga, broke ass, where's your cash?
Nigga, Santa Claus with no bag
Nigga, you a ho-ho-ho ass, nigga
No bullshit, my nigga
I'm pushin' my triggers
They lookin' for niggas in bushes, my nigga
In the ocean, in the lake, in the woods, in the rivers
They skies was gray and the bullets was silver
Young Money on friend and my lady, my nigga
You front on your money, you quittin', my nigga
We kill you by breakfast and cook you for dinner
The lesbians say you a pussy-ass nigga, ol' ho-ass nigga
I put some pressure on your ho
Make her tell me what she know
Stop confessing to that ho
Stop confiding in that ho
Stop providing for that ho
You gon' die for that ho
Suicide for that ho
Boy, you been a ho
I remember, ho
You ain't fooling Weezy F, and that's for friend or foe
Tell them hoes in the house we kicking in the door
He a ho and she a ho, now that's too many hoes
Nigga with a AK-47
Three-sixty five, twenty-four seven
Percocet got a nigga's nose sweaty
But all the ho shit still so smelly
Belch wrong, get your throat slashed
Nigga, broke ass, where's your cash?
Nigga, Santa Claus with no bag
Nigga, you a ho-ho-ho ass, nigga
Boy, you been a ho
I remember, ho
You ain't foolin' Weezy F, and that's for friend or foe
Tell them hoes in the house we kicking in the door
He a ho and she a ho, now that's too many hoes
(There's some hoes in this house)