Lyrical Breakdown of 8 Ball - Remix - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "8 Ball - Remix" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how N.W.A. weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "8 Ball - Remix" 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 N.W.A. 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 N.W.A.'s narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "8 Ball - Remix" not only celebrates N.W.A.'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!

Get that shit City of Compton City of Compton Cold kickin' ass, cold kickin' ass Cold kickin' ass, cold kickin' ass (kick that shit) Pull up a chair I don't drink brass monkey, like to be funky Nickname Eazy-E, yo' 8 Ball junkie Bass drum kickin', to show my shit Rappin holdin' my dick boy, I don't quit Crowd rockin' motherfucker from around the way I got a six-shooter, yo' mean hombre Rollin' through the hood, to find the boys To kick dust and cuss, crank up some noise Police on my drawers, I have to pause Forty ounce in my lap and it's freezin' my balls I hook a right turn and let the boys go past Then I say to myself, "They can kiss my ass" Hip to get drunk got the 8 in my lips Put in the old tape, Marvin Gaye's Greatest Hits Turn the shit up, had the bass cold whompin' Cruisin' through the Eastside, South of Compton See a big ass, and I say word I took a look at the face, and the bitch was to the curb Hoes on my tip for the title I'm holdin' Eazy-E's fucked up and got the 8 Ball rollin' I was (cold kickin' ass) I was (raised in L.A.) I was (cruisin' down the street in my six-fo) (Too much, posse) Ridin' on Slausson, lookin for Crenshaw Turned down the sound, to ditch the law Stopped at a light and had a fit 'Cause a Mexican almost wrecked my shit Flipped his ass off, put it to the floor Bottle was empty so I went to the store Nigga on tilt 'cause I was drunk See a sissy-ass punk, had to go in my trunk Reached inside 'cause it's like that Came back out with a silver gat Fired at the punk, and it was all because I had to show the nigga what time it was Pulled out the jammy and like a mirage A sissy like that got out of Dodge Sucka on me 'cause the title I'm holdin' Eazy-E's fucked up and got the 8 Ball rollin' Fuck it up y'all Fuck it up y'all Fuck it up y'all Fuck it up y'all Fuck it up y'all Fuck it up y'all Yeah Olde English 800 'cause that's my brand Take it in a bottle, 40, quart, or can Drink it like a madman, yes I do Fuck the police and a 502 Stepped in the party, I was drunk as hell Three bitches already said, "Eric yo' breath smells!" Forty ounce in hand, that's what I got (Yo man you see Eazy hurling in the parkin lot?) Stepped on your foot, cold dissed yo' ho Asked her to dance and she said: "Hell no!" Called her a bitch 'cause that's the rule "Bitch, who you callin a bitch?!" Boys in the hood tryin' to keep me cool You tell my homeboy you wanna kick my butt I walked in your face and we get 'em up I start droppin' the dogs, and watch you fold Just dumb full of cum, got knocked out cold Made you look sick you snotty-nosed prick Now your fly bitch is all over his dick Punk got dropped 'cause the title I'm holdin' Eazy-E's fucked up and got the 8 Ball rollin' Stomp a mudhole in your ass Stomp a mudhole in your ass, bitch Pass the brew motherfucker while I tear shit up And y'all listen up close to roll call Eazy-E's in the place, I got money and juice Rendezvous with me and we make the deuce Dre makes the beats so goddamn funky Do the Olde 8, fuck the brass monkey Ice Cube writes the rhymes, that I say Hail to the niggas from C.I.A Krazy D is down and in effect We make hardcore jams, so fuck respect Make a toast punky-punk to the title I'm holdin' Eazy-E's fucked up and got the 8 Ball rollin' City of Compton City of Compton City, city, city of...