Lyrical Breakdown of Bitch Sickness - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Bitch Sickness" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how Tech N9ne weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Bitch Sickness" 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 Tech N9ne 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 Tech N9ne's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "Bitch Sickness" not only celebrates Tech N9ne'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!
No, you ain't supposed to put on your devil suit
When you come up in the church, young mayne
Now they ain't about to think you a rebel
You 'bout to make them think you birthed from flames
La la la-di-da-da, wanna be on TV just to show out for mi mama
But breakin' into colored houses, admit
That it's a bitch when you sick like this
Puttin' all the face paint I can put on
Put my black jeans and black hood on
That's your TV I just stood on
With a faded habit this brother swerves when I sip vodka
I'm the latest rabbit, in other words; I'm a hip-hopper
You disc jockers never played me, you said my shit stopped ya
2001, I mixed opera now every cliques' got the
Sick caca with lots of rippin' about they chips, oughta
Listen to this quick chopper flippin' and poppin'
With the spirit of Pac and Big Poppa!
Ya! This for your motherfuckin' rap quotes
My shit is surprisin' and shockin' like Barack votes
The traps broke when I rapped with
Tunechi and Stacks though
OG Mug said I'm gonna be the first rapper to cross over to black folk
Ya, I'm breakin' into colored houses
Polo boots and hella dark-colored outfits
Ya, I'm breakin' into colored houses
Fellas better put a chastity belt on your spouses
Man, it must suck to be you niggas
Cause it don't suck to be this rich
If you not fuckin' with me, brethren
You can suck upon this dick
Man I just get it how we get it where I live
Somebody better call 911 (Call 911)
I'm breakin' in these niggas cribs!
Yeah, we out here workin'
One things fo' sho', two things for certain
I'm for real! That's how I live
Somebody better call 911 (Call 911)
I'm breakin' in these niggas cribs!
Since 2001 my people dodged me like Durango
Now at my shows I see more N-words than Django
(From Missouri) like Nelly, Chingy, and Chain Hang Low
But Kansas City somewhere over the rainbow
I'm in yo' house baby, I'm in yo' living room
Lookin' down yo' blouse lady, and everybody is in tune
To Tech Ninna, sex fiend a threat to his and whom
They got a beautiful woman and givin' poon
They want it cause I'm bout to be big and BOOM
Breakin' into colored houses is hard, mane
Cause everybody got guns
And they got dogs
And they got bars mane
But I'm comin' thru that TV
All the ghetto is gon' see me
Sippin' the KC Tea
Now you know Tech N9ne now everybody want a freebie!
My people missin me, like Diana Ross
No this ain't MMG, but I'm A Boss
Although I'm wicked see, I'm fly and I floss
So why am I lost
Like my jam is off
Yes you a day late
Better late than never I'm a veteran
My cheddar been truly silly like Stevie J face
Every last one of these evil haters they see me vacate
Tip to the crib, turn on the television and see my face like, "Hey wait."