Lyrical Breakdown of ATLiens - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "ATLiens" 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 "ATLiens" 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 "ATLiens" 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!

Yeah, uh, East Point, smokes some dank College Park in the house Decatur Uh, Old National got the skanks Everybody, uh, know what I'm sayin' Check it Well it's the M-I, crooked letter, ain't no one better And when I'm on the microphone you best to wear your sweater 'Cause I'm cooler than a polar bear's toenails Oh hell, there he go again talkin' that shit Bend, corner's like I was a curve, I struck a nerve And now you 'bout to see this Southern player serve I heard it's not where you're from but where you pay rent Then I heard it's not what you make but how much you spent You got me bent like elbows, amongst other things, but I'm not worried 'Cause when we step up in the party, like a mouse-you-scurry So go get your fuckin' shine box, and your sack of nickels It tickles to see you try to be like Mr. Pickles Daddy fat sacks, B-I-G B-O-I It's that same motherfucker that took them knuckles to your eye And I try, to warn you not to test but you don't listen Givin' the shout out to my Uncle Donnel locked up in prison (yeah) Now throw your hands in the air And wave 'em like you just don't care And if you like fish and grits and all that pimp shit Everybody let me hear you say, "Oh-yeah-yer" Now throw your hands in the air And wave 'em like you just don't care And if you like fish and grits and all that pimp shit Everybody let me hear you say, "Oh-yeah-yer" Now, my oral illustration be like clitoral stimulation To the female gender, ain't nothin better Let me know when it's wet enough to enter If not I'll wait, because the future of the world depends on If or if not the child we raise gon' have that nigga syndrome Or will it know to beat the odds regardless of the skin tone I really feel that if we tune it, it just might get picked on Or will it give a fuck about what others say and get gone The alienate-us 'cause we different keep your hands to the sky Like Sounds of Blackness when I practice what I preach, it don't lie I'll be the baker and the maker of the piece of my pie Now breaker, breaker 10-4 can I get some reply? Now everybody say Now throw your hands in the air And wave 'em like you just don't care And if you like fish and grits and all that pimp shit Everybody let me hear you say, "Oh-yeah-yer" Now throw your hands in the air And wave 'em like you just don't care And if you like fish and grits and all that pimp shit Everybody let me hear you say, "Oh-yeah-yer" Everyday I sit while my nigga be in school Thinkin' about the second album at the Dungeon shootin' pool Like E-S to the P-N, 'cause we adjust to the beat in the zone (zone) Honey, I'm home but I'm not married Carried a lot of problems around bein' frustrated And now I'm sittin' at the end of the month, I just made it Like you made the B team And like the daddy's wife you makin' the coffee You heard the ATLiens So back the hell up off me (shh, shh) Softly as if I played piano in the dark Found a way to channel my anger not to embark The world's a stage and everybody gots to play their part God works in mysterious ways so when he starts The job of speakin' through us we be so sincere with this here No drugs or alcohol so I can get the signal clear as day Put my Glock away I got a stronger weapon That never runs out of ammunition so I'm ready for war, okay Now throw your hands in the air And wave 'em like you just don't care And if you like fish and grits and all that pimp shit Everybody let me hear you say, "Oh-yeah-yer" Now throw your hands in the air And wave 'em like you just don't care And if you like fish and grits and all that pimp shit Everybody let me hear you say, "Oh-yeah-yer"