Lyrical Breakdown of Meal Ticket - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Meal Ticket" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Master P weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Meal Ticket" 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 Master P 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 Master P's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Meal Ticket" not only celebrates Master P'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!
My partner gave me fifty dollar, put me in the game
I been slangin' weed then I moved up to 'caine
Pushin' dem bouldas, slangin' dem quarters
I got 'em two for three, God dammit, I'm a balla
Pushin' in weight from state to state
Niggas ridin' dirty on my mobile phone, it's UGK
Pimp C said, "P, what's really goin' on?"
I said, "What's really happenin'
He said, "I gotta pocket full of stones"
Now P, be dat new kid on the block
36 OZ's choppin' up rocks in my rock shop
And label me a drug dealer
Just another hard nigga
Rest in peace to 2Pac and the rest of y'all thug niggas
Playaz hookin' up, tryin' to make work
Sendin' work from FedEx to UPS trucks
Now P livin' lavish, caviar and cabbage
Peppers and beans and grits and cabbage
Down south hustlin', ballin', slangin'
Niggas teamin' up, some niggas gang bangin'
Used to drink 40s, now it's Moët
Used to roll Cutlass
Now it's Benzes and 'Vettes
Beckett on my fingaz, Rolex watches
Hoes on the block, bounce that ass
I mean pussy poppin'
Label me an alien, just like Outcast
'Cause I made my money from the ghetto and I did it fast
'Cause I'm 'bout it, y'all know I'm rowdy
Ask Big Mo and John Henry if y'all doubt it
Hooked up with 8Ball and MJG
'Cause we tryin' to get a meal ticket from these streets
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
8Ball and MJG, south side representin'
A nigga came to mention these hoes can't touch my pimpin'
Mobbin' through the swamp, P and me and G and UGK
Somethin' that a muthafucka fuck, what these hoes say?
'Cause we's be lookin' for a meal ticket, which is, drivin' me crazy
"Lady, can I claim your baby? Honey callin' me shady, maybe
Constructive thinkin', returnin' to ducats bankin'
Oh Lord, somebody save me, slice some meat off in my gravy
Captain Save 'Em, pay 'em, before you get to lay 'em
Got a real nigga job, so damn hard tryna play 'em
Weigh 'em, no, weigh me, 'cause that's what they gon' pay me
Pimpin' ain't dead, baby, just ask MJG, who be I? MJG, He be me
But if I was he and you was I, who would you see?
Where the fuck is justice when you're homewrecked?
I do it only for tainter, bustlers, flakes, and phonies
I'm about that money, what if I take it?
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Cocaine lady, white lady selling good
I'm leaning on the leather and I'm gripping on the wood
I'm feeling on the grant, falling in the slant
Back, I'm MC, bitch and trill, niggas roll Cadillac
Bad-ass bitches can't leave my dick alone
I done bought me a key and changed my name to James Jones
Pippin ain't dead, you heard what I said
How the fuck Pippin dead when bitches dead
Give him a head, licking my ass, and punt, beat, and hit her
Suck the nutter by the butler
Bump and slow down, swamp nigger
Now bitch, I be the prince of pushing everything
The Pope, the Pope, Arthur, the king of the quarters
Fuckin' with nothing but Queensland
They doubt who get lean, sweated, and watered
I flow like an Asian Malaysian, Saudi Arabian, African
I be blazin' in the Golden Gate
Swish it, I hold and wait
I hit the block, I'm rollin' bait
Them fiends come out, they know they got this golden cake
I motivate teens, dealers, followers
Haters, shoppers, boppers, Jekyll and Hyde
Barney and Clyde and niggas that ride with Glocks and choppers
What we offer?
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket
Tryin' to get a meal ticket