Lyrical Breakdown of For All My Niggaz & Bitches - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "For All My Niggaz & Bitches" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Snoop Doggy Dogg weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "For All My Niggaz & Bitches" 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 Snoop Doggy Dogg 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 Snoop Doggy Dogg's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "For All My Niggaz & Bitches" not only celebrates Snoop Doggy Dogg'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!

Well it's that slow flow, D-O-double-G, nigga See these other fools but you can't see me, nigga Who am I? (It's Kurupt Motherfucker) Do or die (We gives a fuck motherfucker) So slow your roll, I'm In Control like Janet The loc-est twenty-one year old nigga that's on this planet Take it for granted, if ya wanna, cuz I'm gonna Grab my strap then clear the corner, beeotch!! So all my bitches and my niggas and my niggas and my bitches Wave your motherfuckin hands in the air And if you don't give a shit like we don't give a shit Wave your motherfuckin fingers in the air To all my niggas and my bitches and my bitches and my niggas Wave your motherfuckin hands in the air And if you don't give a fuck like we don't give a fuck Keep your motherfuckin hands in the air. Now on a one, two, three who could it be Comin with a grip of gangsta shit for ninety-three So ninety-four's arrived nigga, back on up And let me and my Dogg Kurupt fuck shit up Now can't nobody see me here or there Wherever I bails, I put it down on the ground Cuz ain't shit for sale in the Coupe With the beat flossin off gold D's And my cousin Snoop packs well, you know what I mean And it don't take much, for the Dogg Pound to bust a cap In your ass, for gettin us all fucked up Now check it, it's a callin for niggas like Doggs Who supposed to be the shit, but steadily bitchin like hoes (Yes y'all) other Doggs (yes y'all) Yiggy y'all Stay full of that gin and juice and have a ball I packs a strap, like that, I kicks it like this Now how many bitches must get dicked? Before they say, that Daz is that nigga from back in the day Ya never ever thought I'd see him bustin with Dr. Dre Cuz I grips mics, I rips mics in half Hoes be comin to my flat so I can tap that ass So all my bitches and my niggas and my niggas and my bitches Wave your motherfuckin hands in the air And if you don't give a shit like we don't give a shit Wave your motherfuckin fingers in the air To all my niggas and my bitches and my bitches and my niggas Wave your motherfuckin hands in the air And if you don't give a fuck like we don't give a fuck Keep your motherfuckin hands in the air. You're headed my way, nigga you best to hit a U-turn quick So what's happenin? I'm cappin shit up like a Western flick The kingpin of the clique, top notch 17 shot Glock cocked, so all nigga drop The run of the mill fool get broke off for tryin to serve The best Kurupt's era, peep the terror, cuz it's a murder fest I smoke chronic everyday, so what have we Another motherfucker, gettin served like some cavy Now who, drops (ruff rhymes) I got the Juice like 2Pac (Plus I'm) rollin with two Glocks Fly motherfuckers can't see Kurupt Hellraisin like Pinhead, beware I'm tearin shit the fuck up Slow your roll, like your legs was broken Who's jokin? Rakim never joked, so why should I loc? Now that's my idol, check the vital rhyme flow doe Runnin em like Flo Jo, stranded on Death Row Mediocre motherfuckers die cuz I'm servin and They can't fuck with or see me I'm mass murdering Yeah (I'm raw like news footage) I'm rugged like a BF Goodrich (Bring your whole set and get your hood lynched) Peep the murderous styles and the poetical techniques So all my niggas and my bitches and my bitches and my niggas Wave your motherfuckin hands in the air And if you don't give a shit like we don't give a shit Keep your motherfuckin fingers in the air To all my niggas and my bitches and my bitches and my niggas Wave your motherfuckin hands in the air And if you don't give a fuck like we don't give a fuck Keep your motherfuckin fingers in the air. Check it out, it's Rage, ready for the breakdown Take down, when it comes to the mic I'm puttin my weight down And that's 175 pounds of beef Beatin' yo' ass down to the concrete Fool, act like ya know I'm stranded on Death Row with no where to go, so What's a girl to do Take out a crew, or two, a few, what you wanna do? Throw your guns in the motherfuckin air, we don't care Niggas don't give a fuck nigga About nuthin at all, just my Doggs and clockin the grip bitch Niggas don't give a fuck nigga That's why I can kick it so tuff, cuz when times get ruff, my Niggas don't give a fuck nigga The clique I'm with, don't give a sheeit, ya know why? Real niggas don't give a fuck Now all the bitches, and the niggas Wave your motherfuckin hands in the air To all my niggas, and my bitches Wave your motherfuckin hands in the air To all my niggas and my bitches Wave your motherfuckin hands in the air And if you don't give a fuck like we don't give a fuck Keep your motherfuckin hands in the air