Welcome to the detailed analysis of "S.N.I.T.C.H." on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how undefined weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "S.N.I.T.C.H." 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 undefined 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 undefined's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "S.N.I.T.C.H." not only celebrates undefined'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!
Sorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home
Sorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home
Well, the walls are talkin' to me and I know you think I'm wrong
But, sorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home, hey!
Now when the phone start to clickin', your words start to echo
Say you got to hang up but that man won't let go
Oh, my nigga, say it ain't so
Now we speakin' on some niggas that he say he ain't know
We used to steal dirt bikes, dodge raindrops
So close niggas thought we had the same pops
Graduated, gettin' money on the same blocks
But things changed and we ain't end up in the same box
Hearin' whispers, "it ain't adding up"
Givin' you the jailhouse talk but you ain't mad enough
I never thought I'd be the last man standin' up
I never thought I'd had have to question, 'Were you man enough?'
Long letters how the streets got the best of you
Tellin' all your cellies how come I ain't sitting next to you
Yeah, see I can read between the lines
So it's awkward when you call and I gotta press 5
Sorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home
Sorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home
I think the Feds are lookin' through me, can't you hear it in my tone?
So, then sorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home, hey!
Got me tiptoeing through the conversation on our calls
Tryna act normal but the writin's on the walls
It's like I hear you smilin' when you heard they hit the wall
But I just let it ride so I don't be the next to fall
"They sayin' Terrion been getting money while I'm gone
And won't he tryna to holla at my bitch when I was home"
"Nah, he selling cars, it'd be him and Lil Rome"
I'm just tryna offset what he was sayin' on my phone
Nowadays niggas don't need shovels to bury you
Pointin' fingers like pallbearers how they carry you
So much for death before dishonor
Might as well have a robe and gavel like Your Honor
I just sit and wonder, play it by the numbers
When you ride like lightnin' then you crash like thunder
Seen your baby mama, she ain't even know if she should speak
What the fuck is there to say knowing her king's now weak sayin'
Sorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home
Sorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home
Well, the walls are talkin' to me and I know you think I'm wrong
But, sorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home, hey!
Let's talk real niggas, let's speak real, nigga
How many niggas you knew snitchin' you ain't killed, nigga?
Covered his own tracks, he didn't care that
We had a legacy he killed, I got to wear that
Every move we ever made is gettin' stared at
I bet the man inside his mirror doesn't stare back
Break your heart when the man you call your brother
Be the same one that set in motion all them undercovers
Called my mom mother, was at my graduation
When I signed my record deal you was my motivation
Uh, from great friends now it's no affiliation
Divided by the time he was facin', once he told me that
Sorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home
Sorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home
I think the Feds are looking through me, can't you hear it in my tone?
So, then sorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home, hey!