Lyrical Breakdown of Ride Out - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Ride Out" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how ScHoolboy Q feat. Vince Staples weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Ride Out" 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 ScHoolboy Q feat. Vince Staples 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 ScHoolboy Q feat. Vince Staples's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Ride Out" not only celebrates ScHoolboy Q feat. Vince Staples'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!

Ride out, big smoke Re-up, big dope Gs up, hoes blow Freeze up, eyes closed Ride out, big smoke Re-up, big dope Gs up, hoes blow Freeze up, eyes closed Young nigga and I'm proper like Couple hundred thousand on me, nigga, yeah I'm baller like Bitch I think I'm Dolamite, bitch I'm goin' poltergeist You said this is overnight, album four is really like Crippin' on my minibike Either hoop or sellin' white Brillo pad, the smoker's pipe My pistol cocked, you tryna fight? Say he wanna be a cuz, put his brains to the right Bruh, this ain't the eighties, mane Niggas shootin' everything, everything You know the gang we represent Specialize in pistol grips Shootin' out my momma's whip Always got an empty clip Top Dawg in this bitch Nigga's puttin' dicks inside your baby momma's momma's lips Shootin' all the witnesses, it ain't no fuckin' murder scene Crips don't fuck with Crips oh now it's jeans and black the rival team Wrong hat and shoes, put your ass on the forever dream Heatin' up the summer 'til the winter fall, spring clean Ride out, big smoke Re-up, big dope Gs up, hoes blow Freeze up, eyes closed Ride out, big smoke Re-up, big dope Gs up, hoes blow Freeze up, eyes closed Young nigga and I'm proper like Couple hundred thousand on me, nigga, yeah I'm baller like Bitch I think I'm Dolamite, bitch I'm goin' poltergeist You said this was overnight, me and Vince, we crackin' like Crippin' in our afterlife Yeah, cause at Ramona Park we beef with everybody Light or dark I'll spark, don't fuck with narcs So don't be talkin' 'bout me My big homie made me get 'em, kill 'em Cause if I got 'em I'ma kill 'em, I ain't playin' with 'em I'm from the bottom, that's the top of the town We on the [?] so they clip us up for knockin' 'em down My burner tucked, I learned from Chuck so I ain't turnin' it down Get to bussin', know you bluffed it, nigga If that bitch can't make me rich then ain't no need in fuckin' with her Turn around and fuck her sister Murked that bitch, got EBT Long Beach, say some shit like me Since Tracy D and DPG I went and got a burner On the day they murdered Baby D That ain't murder baby, heat I'm in that Benz with Lil Boy So lil boy don't play with me I'm ridin' cycs through Hoover Street, my knuckles full of teeth Try to creep on me, you're dyin' in your homie's seat Keep to my gun and reach Filet the beef, clip reach from Fig side to Norfolk Beach In a stolen Expedition, in your hood cause you the mission Been a mathematician, load nine, subtracted eight I'm keepin' one for just in case, don't cover face but I ain't trippin' Blunt was laced, niggas know I'm 'round the way So ain't no liquor stores today Ride out, big smoke Re-up, big dope Gs up, hoes blow Freeze up, eyes closed Ride out, big smoke Re-up, big dope Gs up, hoes blow Freeze up, eyes closed Young nigga and I'm proper like Couple hundred thousand on me, nigga, yeah I'm baller like Bitch I think I'm Dolamite, bitch I'm goin' poltergeist You said this was overnight, me and Vince, we crackin' like Crippin' in our afterlife Ride, ride, ride, ride Ride, ride, ride, big dope Gs, gs, gs, gs, gs Eyes closed Ride, ride, ride, ride Ride, ride, ride, ride Ride, ride, ride, ride Ride, ride, ride, ride Ride, ride, ride, ride