Lyrical Breakdown of Ridin' Thru The Ghetto (Bonus Track Edited) (feat. Triple C) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Ridin' Thru The Ghetto (Bonus Track Edited) (feat. Triple C)" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Rick Ross weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Ridin' Thru The Ghetto (Bonus Track Edited) (feat. Triple C)" 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 Rick Ross 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 Rick Ross's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Ridin' Thru The Ghetto (Bonus Track Edited) (feat. Triple C)" not only celebrates Rick Ross'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!

Trilla I'm a boss I'm ridin' through the ghetto and I'm worth a million dollars I'm ridin' through the ghetto and I'm worth a million dollars I'm worth a million dollars, dollars, worth a million dollars Dollars, worth a million dollars, dollars, worth a million dollars I'm ridin' through the ghetto and I'm worth a million dollars I'm ridin' through the ghetto and I'm worth a million dollars I'm makin' women holler, holler, makin' women holler Holler, makin' women holler, holler I just left my mama house and it made me feel good I just paid my mama bills, you would if you could Nigga see, I'm from the ghetto and they thought I'd go to prison Niggas in the ghetto always end up in the system But I'm ridin' through the ghetto and I'm worth a million dollars I'm ridin' through the ghetto and I'm worth a million dollars Convertible Impala, but can drive what I wanna 'Cause I'm ballin' like a motha, smokin' on that California Hit the freeway, and I'm thinkin' 'bout my brother Got a life sentence, fuckin' with them undercovers Gotta handle my business, I came up with a plan Handle mine like a nigga, I'm in the lime green Lamb' Yeah them niggas wanna ride with a nigga I let her drive on them two pills so it louses Got 'bout twenty stacks tucked in my jeans At the intersection gettin' high, nothin' in between, you can see I'm ridin' through the ghetto and I'm worth a million dollars I'm ridin' through the ghetto and I'm worth a million dollars I'm worth a million dollars, dollars, worth a million dollars Dollars, worth a million dollars, dollars, worth a million dollars I'm ridin' through the ghetto and I'm worth a million dollars I'm ridin' through the ghetto and I'm worth a million dollars I'm makin' women holler, holler, makin' women holler Holler, makin' women holler, holler I just spilled all of my clean on my lap And I'm 38 hot, 'cause I gotta turn back And the trap on fire, but I still drop by My money no good in the hood, they be lookin' out I paid mine, could you say the same? Same old excuses, niggas blame it on the game Got up out the ghetto, made it, now my community hate it I used to Section 8 it, just a nickel bag would have me faded I came a long way, I had a long day And I'm cranky, I crank up, rub me the wrong way I got issues like a newsstand, somethin' different every day I don't run from it, I just stare it in the face Hittin' corners with the beat beatin' I miss the days when the streets heard somethin' and then repeat it Before the dollars and the diamonds on the collars and the Pradas Gunplay was just another ghetto problem, now I'm... I'm ridin' through the ghetto and I'm worth a million dollars I'm ridin' through the ghetto and I'm worth a million dollars I'm worth a million dollars, dollars, worth a million dollars Dollars, worth a million dollars, dollars, worth a million dollars I'm ridin' through the ghetto and I'm worth a million dollars I'm ridin' through the ghetto and I'm worth a million dollars I'm makin' women holler, holler, makin' women holler Holler, makin' women holler, holler Picture me rollin' in my 550 Benz My life a movie, niggas actin' like friends Just beat a case, ten million in the flesh Semi-auto in the auto when I'm ridin' through the 'jects 'Cause I'm worth a million dollars and I'm lookin' like I feel Ferris wheels on the coupe, cookin' up like Emeril No appeal for my dog, niggas shot him, 40 years Got me chain smokin' just to hold back the tears 'Cause the label season comin' fast My mama nervous 'cause the feds searchin' through the trash Somebody workin' paranoid, it get worse, send a text before you call I'm ridin' through the ghetto, 50,000 on my arm You can judge a man lookin' at his company I talk with Hov and I break bread with Ross monthly Ten niggas in low riders with ski masks Screamin', "Cartel," every time we pass, black flag I'm ridin' through the ghetto and I'm worth a million dollars I'm ridin' through the ghetto and I'm worth a million dollars I'm worth a million dollars, dollars, worth a million dollars Dollars, worth a million dollars, dollars, worth a million dollars I'm ridin' through the ghetto and I'm worth a million dollars I'm ridin' through the ghetto and I'm worth a million dollars I'm makin' women holler, holler, makin' women holler Holler, makin' women holler, holler You gotta understand the feelin', baby It's like comin' to the prep game Playin' on air, came up You feel me? Now I'm the billionaire, the big boss Let's say I'm comin' down in some ho, right? I paid 400,000 for her, I paid that with a smile You feel me? I'm comin' down Mind the guard's drive, it's all the way live Know what I'm talkin' 'bout? It's the boss And I love to floss, I ain't need no Mickey D's, baby You gotta follow me close Might stop at P.F. Chang's and we can do some things I'm a rich nigga, ha, we the best So fresh, I'm higher than a muh'fucker And I'm trilla, trilla Trilla, trilla