Lyrical Breakdown of B.O.B. - Bombs Over Baghdad - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "B.O.B. - Bombs Over Baghdad" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

Lyric Overview: Witness how OutKast weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "B.O.B. - Bombs Over Baghdad" 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 OutKast 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 OutKast's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "B.O.B. - Bombs Over Baghdad" not only celebrates OutKast'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!

One, two, one, two, three Yeah, inslumnational underground Thunder pounds, when I stomp the ground (woo) Like a million elephants or silverback orangutans You can't stop a train Who wants some? Don't come unprepared I'll be there, but when I leave there Better be a household name Weatherman tellin' us it ain't gon' rain So now we sittin' in a droptop, soakin' wet In a silk suit tryin' not to sweat Hittin' somersaults without the net But this'll be the year that we won't forget, the 1-9-9-9 Anno Domini, anything goes Be what you want to be, long as you know Consequences are given for living the fence is Too high to jump in jail, too low to dig I might just touch hell, hot Get a life, now they on sale Then I might cast you a spell Look at what came in the mail A scale and some Arm & Hammer Soul gold grill, and a baby mamma Black Cadillac and a pack of pampers Stack of questions with no answers Cure for cancer, cure for AIDS Make a nigga want to stay on tour for days Get back home, thangs are wrong Well, not really, it was bad all along Before your left, adds up to a ball of power Thoughts at a thousand miles per hour Hello, ghetto, let yo' brain breathe Believe there's always mo', ow Don't pull the thang out unless you plan to bang (Bombs over Baghdad, yeah) yeah, ha, ha, yeah Don't even bang unless you plan to hit something (Bombs over Baghdad, yeah) yeah, ah Don't pull the thang out unless you plan to bang (Bombs over Baghdad, yeah) ha, ha, ha, yeah Don't even bang unless you plan to hit something (Bombs over Baghdad, yeah) Uno, dos, tres, it's on Did you ever think a pimp rock a microphone? Like that there, boy and we still stay street Big things happen every time we meet Like a track team, crack fiend, dyin' to geek Outkast bumpin' up and down the street Slant back Cadillac, 'bout five niggas deep 75 MC's freestylin' to the beat 'Cause we get crunk, stay drunk at the club Should've bought an ounce, but you copped a dub Should've held back, but you throwed a punch 'Posed to meet your girl, but you packed a lunch No D to the U to the G for you Got a son on the way, by the name of Bamboo Got a little baby girl, four year Jordan Never turned my back on my kids for them Should've hit it, quit it, rag top Before you re-up, get a laptop Make a b'ness for yourself, boy set some goals Make a fat diamond out of dusty coals Record number four, but we on the road Hold up, slow up, stop, control Like Janet, planet Stankonia's on ya Movin' like Floyd, comin' straight to Florida Lock all your windows, then block the corridors Pullin' off my belt, 'cause a whipping's in order Like a three piece fish, 'fore I cut your daughter Yo quiero Taco Bell, then I hit the border Pitty-pat rappers tryin' to get the five I'm a microphone fiend tryin' to stay alive When you come A-T-L, boy, you better not hide 'Cause the Dungeon Family gon' ride, ha-ha Don't pull the thang out unless you plan to bang (Bombs over Baghdad, yeah) ah, yeah Don't even bang unless you plan to hit something (Bombs over Baghdad, yeah) ah, yeah Don't pull the thang out unless you plan to bang (Bombs over Baghdad, yeah) y'all over, yeah Don't even bang unless you plan to hit something (Bombs over Baghdad, yeah) Bombs over Baghdad, yeah Bombs over Baghdad, yeah Bombs over Baghdad, yeah Bombs over Baghdad, yeah Bob your head, rag top Bob your head, rag top Bob your head, rag top Bob your head, rag top Bob your head, rag top Bob your head, rag top Bob your head, rag top Bob your head, rag top Bob your head, rag top Bob your head, rag top Bob your head, rag top Bob your head, rag top Bob your head, rag top Bob your head, rag top Bob your head, rag top Bob your head, rag top Power music, electric revival Power music, electric revival Power music, electric revival Power music, electric revival Power music, electric revival Power music, electric revival Power music, electric revival Power music, electric revival Power music, electric revival Power music, electric revival Power music, electric revival Power music, electric revival Power music, electric revival Power music, electric revival Power music, electric revival Power music, electric revival Power music, electric revival Power music, electric revival Power music, electric revival Power music, electric revival Power music, electric revival Power music, electric revival Power music, electric revival