Welcome to the detailed analysis of "We Got" 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 "We Got" 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 "We Got" 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!
DTP we got them guns that go
Yea I'm all about that pistol playa, cold blooded killa
Niggaz recognize my name, I dub the young dealer
You better tell ya man that with the gages I'm nice
I'll shoot up y'all white shirts until y'all look like dice
But I'm through with all the talking time to show all you niggaz
I 2-0, I'm like J-Lo going through niggaz
DTP we ain't plying if you try to get our payin'
A.K's get ta spraying like
Bottom line that mean I'm 'bout it, any nigga want it, doubt it
Bust you in the broad day on the street that's fully crowded
Find our hole and inside your chest, just for thinking it's rap
And tell that pretty bitch thug we got some pretty big gats
Chaka say I'm shot out and I tend to agree
So you should watch what you saying if it's intended for me
So be careful what you starting, let my fingers do the walking
And that oozy get to talking like
Hammers, jam 'em, snatch 'em, grab 'em
Can the an and fuck 'em, damn 'em
Press him, man him, scarin' him, teared him, heat him up
Bake him, take him, beat him up, I hate I hate, I eat him up
A B C D E F shawty is you a G or what?
Now it's just me and my nuts, that's all I got in this world
I'm pulling pistols out my stomach
And throwing them bitches up like Earl
Serving the club, head shot, scattered, covered, run, scram 'em
I'm 38, hot with a pearl handle
And I'm throwing text like a NBA ref
I got all gold guns like they came from IRAQ
Artillery, could it be I got all kinds of these pistols
I point my gun at ya homeboy make ya own folks hit ya
And ain't taking no more pictures, if you snap I'ma click
Anyway, plus I got bullets in the clip the size of Lil' Fate
And I'm wavin' choppers like helicopters
You gon' need hella doctors when the glock go
Say on the set bitch, better watch your lip that text be quick
20 over thurr, Tity over thurr, Luda over thurr, ain't no exit trick
Us you don't mess with, we got them guns like action flicks
Reload with the next clip, I'm the wrong nigga to flex with bitch
Come on and test this, my gun I'm having sex with shit
Put a bullet in shoot it out, got them long horns like Texas bitch
Look at my necklace, maybe hit a nigga disrespect this click
My pistol grip sound like this
Now what, who want they day fucked
When I cock and load the cake, bust bust?
Y'all cowards play tough, and my peeps we come to spray stuff up
Y'all lives made up, like ugly hoes with make-up bra
We'll shoot you up then toss yo ass in the lake tough nut
My wrist rocky like Sylvester Stallone
So thurr for you should invest in a vest for ya dome
'Cause I know you marks planning on getting me when I'm landing
Peace to nick but my cannon go
Fuck a medic, we gon' call yo ass a taxi cab
Bleedin' so hard you'll need a life size maxi pad
So flip the script and tell your woman it's your time on the month
A.K. 47 for the niggaz
Who's really looking for Heaven and a 9 for you chumps
Got killaz in my squad and I'm the nicest one in my group
But I got bananas for you niggaz and I ain't talking 'bout fruit
I'll pay your cab back with the black mack
Till your back crack, got the gat back like
Clak clak clak
Swallow a hallow make 'em digest with a 50 caliber
Yo futures not looking so good, tomorrow's not on your calendar
I, do away with the amateurs, they breathing too long
I'll leave 'em coughing like the sound effects you hear in this song
My shotguns are cold and hard, but my desert is easy
And my triggers are always talking about
Some squeeze me, squeeze me
And for these fakers talking greezy, I'm starting the show
My oozy got a drum roll, it goes
They got no nerve
They got no nerve
They got no nerve
...