Lyrical Breakdown of Welcome To Atlanta - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Jermaine Dupri feat. Ludacris weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Welcome To Atlanta" 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 Jermaine Dupri feat. Ludacris 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 Jermaine Dupri feat. Ludacris's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Welcome To Atlanta" not only celebrates Jermaine Dupri feat. Ludacris'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!

Yeah, welcome to Atlanta, jackin' and hammer and vogues' Back to the mackin' and jackin' the clothes Adolescent packin a fo', a knock on the do', who is it? I would happen to know, the one with the flow Who did it? It was me, I suppose J-D in the Rolls and Luda's in the Cutt Supreme Skatin' down Old Nat, gat tucked and lean I split ya spleen, as a matter of fact, I split ya team No blood on the sneaks, gotta keep it, so my kicks is clean I get the cream, cops see me flick my beams I'm allergic to doc' prescribed antihistamines Oink oink, pig pig, do away with the pork Only silverware, I needs a steak knife and a fork Did you forget your fuckin' manners? I'm Bruce with Banners Ludacris, Johnny Rockets when I shoot the cannon The wooly mammoth sabretooth, bitch, bite your tongue I won't stop until I'm rich as them whites'll come I pulled up in the black Lotus Your plaques are bogus, so I stripped them off the wall Waitin' for my cue to corner pocket eight balls, you rackin' 'em up I'm big paper like pancakes, stackin 'em up In fact, I'm slappin' 'em up, Cadillac and the truck I can't lose with twenty-two, bitch, that's what's up Runnin, in the back to fuck, better tha-than the aqueduct Chillin', flippin', what? Yo, yo, y-y-yo, yo, yo Y-y-yo yo, yo yo yo Yo yo yo yo, yo yo, yo Y-yo, yo, yo yo yo yo yo yo Welcome to Atlanta where the players play And we ride on dem thangs like every day Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin' And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin' Welcome to Atlanta where the players play And we ride on dem thangs like every day Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin' And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin' Yo, uhh, now the party don't start 'til I walk in And I usually don't leave until the thang ends But in the meantime, in between time You work yo' thing, I'll work mine I been puttin' it down here since eighty-three Since the Lake Show / MD rivalry When Frozen Paradise was the place to be If you was ridin', you was bumpin' to homie Shy-D I'm the M.B.P., Most Ballinist Player Make my own rules, bitch, call me the mayor Monday night, Gentlemen's Club Tuesday night, I'm up in the Velvet Room, gettin' fucked up Wednesday, I'm at Strokers on lean Thursday, Jump Clean, then I fall up in Kream Friday, Shark Bar, Kaya with Frank Ski Right on the flo' is where you can find me Saturday, is off the heezy fo' sheezy You can find me up in One-Tweezy Sunday is when I get my sleep in 'Cause on Monday we be at it again, holla Yo, yo, y-y-yo, yo, yo Y-y-yo yo, yo yo yo Yo yo yo yo, yo yo, yo Y-yo, yo, yo yo yo yo yo yo Welcome to Atlanta where the players play And we ride on dem thangs like every day Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin' And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin' Welcome to Atlanta where the players play And we ride on dem thangs like every day Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin' And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin' Welcome to Atlanta where the players play And we ride on dem thangs like every day Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin' And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin' Welcome to Atlanta where the players play And we ride on dem thangs like every day Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin' And parties don't stop 'til eight in the mornin'