Lyrical Breakdown of I'm Going Out (Clean Version) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "I'm Going Out (Clean Version)" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Mobb Deep weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "I'm Going Out (Clean Version)" 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 Mobb Deep 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 Mobb Deep's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "I'm Going Out (Clean Version)" not only celebrates Mobb Deep'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!

Going out, nigga (Yeah) Big guns and sharp knifes Revolvers 'cause automatics jam at the wrong time (I'm going out) Like fights with the brass knuckles Swinging belts, catching niggas with the buckle, now fuck it (I'm going out) Like I ain't got nothing to live Like as if you had guns to my kids, fuck it (going all out) Uh-huh Word up, dun Check it, yo, yo Yo, you know the type that style and shit that rise my dick Pop me a nigga quicker than the police Leave more wombs than a whole room full of chicks You running while I'm gunning 'cause you a bitch I heard niggas talking like they going to dead mines I got enough guns, we can make the headlines (yeah, we could do it, we could do it) I'm from a place where the realest niggas get murdered And the illest niggas try to avoid it But can't call it It's a cold world, bundle up Keep your heat on at all times and never freeze up And your eyes blink you could catch a hole in your tank Have you leaking all over the place Watch how you speak And watch how you move through the streets I got a mob with niggas with heat We liable to squeeze 'fore we think Breathe 'fore is too late Uh, you fucked up and got laid to sleep (I'm going out) With big guns and sharp knifes Revolvers 'cause automatics jam at the wrong time (I'm going out) Like fights with the brass knuckles Swinging belts, catching niggas with the buckle, now fuck it (I'm going out) Like I ain't got nothing to live (live) Like as if you had guns tot my kids, fuck it (going all out) For the big checks and large faces, mansions And my duns would do the same for me I'm going out like a nigga that ain't never have nothing Fuck it, I ain't frontin' If I want to know I got to go out like a navy seal Label me ill, you sling thrills Meet you on top of the hills, screaming dollar bill Going out like a nigga you just smacked His moms in the cut plotting, patient and calm Put it on everything that I love and stand for Getting bent up in the pub 'til five in the morn' Going out like a nigga with six days to live And like a single parents raising a kid, now that's a bid Going out like a nigga with shit touching his rib You got more than necessary dun, a nigga went dead Going out, for my niggas see this gat in my hand You better back the fuck up, what part didn't you understand? Have a nine aimed straight at your thyroid glands Must've not been really your men, them niggas that ran (I'm going out) With big guns and sharp knifes Revolvers 'cause automatics jam at the wrong time (I'm going out) Like fights with the brass knuckles Swinging belts, catching niggas with the buckle, now fuck it (I'm going out) Like I ain't got nothing to live Like as if you had guns to my kids fuck it (going all out) For the big checks and large faces, mansions And my duns would do the same for me (yo, yo) We do it well, clip niggas like nails Catch cases, skip bail I lie before I ti-dell, die in a ci-del Pop guns with the shi-dell, fuck a bitch 'til she yi-zell Rap style Smoother than C.L., in the K on the DL Line for line you can detail, choked more niggas than Sprewell Rap style P.L.o., watch me blow, like tornadoes Clear the block out with just an echo Trust me, niggas don't want me see let go Niggas don't want to see the tech blow Watch me move the crowd like techno music, nigga When it come to murder, you know we do it for the cause Fuck relyin' on the law, ain't worth dyin' for I rather die fucking raw Or walkin' on a mine in the cold war My dogs got my shoulders, fatigued up machine guns All my niggas soldiers With big grenades, throw them in your rover Send Prodigy to check the scene when it's over Niggas animals comin' back for leftovers (all out, nigga) (I'm going out) With big guns and sharp knifes Revolvers 'cause automatics jam at the wrong time (I'm going out) Like fights with the brass knuckles Swinging belts, catching niggas with the buckle, now fuck it (I'm going out) Like I ain't got nothing to live Like as if you had guns to my kids, fuck it (going all out) For the big checks and large faces, mansions And my duns would do the same for me I'm going out I'm going out I'm going out