Lyrical Breakdown of Xplosion (feat. B-Real) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Xplosion (feat. B-Real)" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

  • Lyric Overview: Witness how OutKast feat. B-Real weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Xplosion (feat. B-Real)" 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 feat. B-Real 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 feat. B-Real's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Xplosion (feat. B-Real)" not only celebrates OutKast feat. B-Real'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!

Hello Lord, it's me again

I just wanna make love to the whole globe

And all her girlfriends

Now don't that make ya mind move

Like smoke patterns, me on my way to Saturn wit' a bomb

Nam-viet, Viet or Saudi Shawty

I figure before the first gun blast, they know who gon' win

Now won't that make us all fools, like class clowns

Praying Private Ryan comes 'round

Sound travels at one-thousand-one-thirty feet per second

Niggas in the street they want it, hurry

When niggas stop biting, that's when 3000 starts to worry

A little knowledge from the college of wizard Ray Murray

Answer quick, "Do you know what desire is?" (Huh?)

Apparently not, that's why you get what you got

Now answer this, "Do you know what fire is?" (Yeah!)

The body of hot, the motivator of pots

Snot, spit, shit are characteristics of release

Ask your niece or nephew, you think we left you

What the future holds in its sweaty palms

Think I'm finna vom'?

You move it like you mean it, she'll come

Prom night might excite a down right fight like

White blood cells to the common cold rebel

Night gets jealous of day, play is no longer

The feelin' gets stronger than ammonia sticks inhale

We just can't be amazed

Even if you pull the pin from your hand grenade

We just can't be amazed

Even if you pull the pin from your hand grenade

We just can't be amazed

Even if you pull the pin from your hand grenade

We just can't be amazed

And we some home-made bombs

Finna blow right up in your face

Look at the way you look at me, I see it on your face

All your hate emanates, but you still hesitate

'Cause you want inside of my head, but don't know how

To brainwash me to be a commercial clown

Fuck that, I see the way you were

See the way you smirk

I'm catching you where you work

God only knows all the trouble that grows

Deep beneath my soul dealing with you assholes

Can I blast those who point the finger at me

Who criticize and talk shit so freely

Fuck XXL, you're a size too small

I should hire Eminem so we can kill you all

Whether you live to talk shit about the Real

Then kiss my ass in person how much you love the Hill

I'm the outcast coming to blaze the grass

Outlaw due to my life that's come to pass

Dré, pass me the glass of wine

So I can pour it over my homies grave and mine

For all those who fallen and answered when God was calling

Jump into my ragtop and get all in

I'm the bomb, planted in your car, why you frozen?

Pop the tape in ignite the explosion

The world is mine, the world is yours, the world is ours

The world is lost, the world is tossed

We just can't be amazed

Even if you pull the pin from your hand grenade

We just can't be amazed

Even if you pull the pin from your hand grenade

We just can't be amazed

Even if you pull the pin from your hand grenade

We just can't be amazed

And we some home-made bombs

Finna blow right up in your face

With a one-two punch, B-Real and André drop they verses

Your homeboy Daddy Fat Sax playin' clean-up, so it worsens

People and persons on the opposite teams, oh, yes, its curtains

No bullets burpin', oh, just lyrically twerking, oh

Making a statement when you freestyle and your mind is in a free state

It's kinda hard to execute when you ain't feeling it that day

Jumpin' the gun and rushing your flow

Babbling on the mikie like auctioneer

Got the public's ears fucked up, can't hear

Atlanta, Georgia, where y'all at? (Right here)

OutKast this Dirty South to death the Dungeon Family Camp

Got this thang licked like stamps and nine-volt battery end caps

Making that music that make your neck hurt

And the beats that bother your back in my Cadillac

Six woofers and four amps

Lo pro vogues on swole, with the carriage lamps

Diamond tucked velour pistol in my lap

Come in peace, but then explode like boobie traps

We just can't be amazed

Even if you pull the pin from your hand grenade

We just can't be amazed

Even if you pull the pin from your hand grenade

We just can't be amazed

Even if you pull the pin from your hand grenade

We just can't be amazed

And we some home-made bombs

Finna blow right up in your face

Do-do-do, do, do-do-do

Do-do-do, do, do-do-do

Do-do-do, do, do-do-do

Do-do-do, do, do-do-do