Welcome to the detailed analysis of "JoHn Muir" 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 "JoHn Muir" 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 "JoHn Muir" 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!
Bellin' through the mothafuckin' street, y'all
Never had a mothafuckin' weed card
I'm down to flatline a nigga, never been soft
Bellin' through the mothafuckin' street, y'all
Bellin' through the mothafuckin' street, y'all
I was thirteen with my mothafuckin' heat, y'all
Nigga caught cases tryna take your fuckin' screen off
I could put your fuckin' life on the recall, uh, yeah
Lookin' for the bitches with the ass
Got an ice chain cause a nigga gettin' cash
Three different pagers blowin' up because I'm crackin'
Tryna turn a dollar to a million, ho, what's happenin'?
O-orange laces, for my shoestrings
Pistol on me, dunk this in her g-string
Ridin' in my mothafuckin' Coupe-Ville
Hoover with my mothafuckin' locs, steel
Figg side niggas keep a dope fiend
Ghetto bird, hit a kil', I ghetto hoop dreams
Tryna strike me out before I finish school
I was just a square nigga 'til I took my 52, oh, yeah, ayy
Bellin' through the mothafuckin' street, y'all
Bellin' through the mothafuckin' street, y'all
We love, we go
We rise, we go
Our pride, we show
We love, we go
Bellin' through the mothafuckin' street, y'all
Tryna get this mothafuckin' weed off
Gang injunctions tell me where we can't go
Shoot me in my back because my afro
Heard I got a stripe on my record then it's true
Cops effin' at my record, never told 'em what I knew
I was in my nigga car garage, yeah, I'm tryna shoot
I was out here sellin' dope at 14, what it do?
I was out here fuckin' hoes at 14, what it do?
I was ditchin' class, fifth grade, yeah, I'm Groovy Q
Ain't no biggy when the small nigga rob, gimme loot
Pop a nigga on his mom's porch, kill his brother too
Nigga lost his first fade nine years after school
Nigga tryna get the Js, blue Chucks sick as flu
Runnin' from the crash unit like my name was State Farm
On my nigga's handlebars tryna get our groove on, yeah
Bellin' through the mothafuckin' street, y'all
Bellin' through the mothafuckin' street, y'all
We love, we go
We rise, we go
Our pride, we show
We love, we go
Bellin' through the mothafuckin' street, y'all
B-B-Bellin', bellin', bellin' through the mothafuckin' street, y'all
B-Bellin' through the mothafuckin' street, y'all
Bellin', bellin' through the mothafuckin', bellin' street, y'all
B-Bellin' through the mothafuckin' street, y'all
Bellin', bellin', bellin'
B-Bellin' through the mothafuckin' street, y'all
Mothafuckin' street, street, street, y'all