Lyrical Breakdown of Gangsta B*tch - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Gangsta B*tch" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Remy Ma weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Gangsta B*tch" 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 Remy Ma 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 Remy Ma's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Gangsta B*tch" not only celebrates Remy Ma'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!
You ain't never hear me snitch
I live the code of the street, I'm a gangster bitch
I hold my own, I hold my own
Hold my own, I hold my own
I like my beat down low
Top back in my whip
I got my hate up lockers on just to puff in my pip
The truth is we selling me or Remy, you that bitch
And I be high
I roll the windows down like yeah, yeah I know that shit
Only fuck with gangster niggas cause I'm a gangster bitch
And Remy Ma is straight cash, you gotta check your shit
You pussy
I get you robbed, even though I'm rich
I'm disrespectful, tell your mom yous' a son of a bitch
I'm a international hustler, if you want it I got it
I'm talking import, export, my passport is poppin'
But I'm cautious of who's coppin'
Cause I don't mean that pretty bitches is fallin' when I be sayin' dimes is, drop it
Nigga
I do my dirt all by my own, why you bastards hatin'
I hold my own like I'm masturbatin'
And no, I don't have a statement, no
I'm not signing my name on no affidavit
No accusations or allegations, no
I can't help with the applications, no
I don't have any information
And y'all can label me as uncooperative
Rats in the garden and the apple is rottin'
See the avenues is listening, the streets is watchin'
But I live by the code and I'mma die by the code
And can't nobody say that Remy ever told me nothin
Where my niggas at?
Roll on a nigga cause he told on you nigga
Put your motherfuckin' guns in the air
Yeah and if you'll split, you a nigga cause he snitched on you nigga
Put your motherfuckin' guns in the air
Yeah and if you stab, you a nigga, cause he ragged on you nigga
Put your motherfuckin' guns in the air
Yeah and if you kill, you a nigga, cause he squealed on you nigga
Put your motherfuckin' guns in the air
I'm a gangster bitc