Lyrical Breakdown of Ol' English - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

• Lyric Overview: Witness how The Game weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Ol' English" 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 The Game 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 The Game's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Ol' English" not only celebrates The Game'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!

(Chorus) Ol' English (la-lala-la-la-la-la) Ridin' by gettin' high Smokin' on that chronic drinkin' Ol' English Rags tied gangs signs Letters on my hat in Ol' English (la-lala-la-la-la-la) Drive by homicide R.I.P. tats in Ol' English Westside 'til I die Niggas pourin' out that Ol' English (la-lala-la-la-la-la) (Verse 1) Once upon a time in the projects yo I watched my uncle Greg put D's on his six-fo' I washed it on Monday so he bought me a gold chain Shopped crack and watched "Colors" and I soaked up game Drove the Impala on his lap that was my role model Used to let me kill the corner of his 40-ounce bottle On the weekend him and my pops flashed the 'Vette 'Til one weekend my uncle got stabbed to death He got murdered by a fiend my pops ain't like that He was from Nutty Block they used to call him Maniac Crazy ass n**** wit' a Black Panther tat Kill a n**** cross him out on his Compton hat Told me when I got older I would understand that It's blood in blood out and ain't no turnin' back Few summers went by and we moved across the tracks 13 that's when I had my first (Chorus) (Verse 2) I was the first n**** wit' a Starter jacket on the block Used to build model cars and let the muthaf**kas hop Moms banged Hoover Crip she was known for sellin' rocks Let me collect the 40-ounce bottles in the dope spot Bought my first Converse thought I couldn't be stopped When I creased up my khakis and threw on my Ronnie Lott Used to think that I was hard so I stole my brother's glock And that's the day my life changed 'cause that night he got shot Killed by another crip over his Rolex watch I got high for three years off that Chronic from the Doc I was drinkin' 40-ounces a lot And every liquor store in Compton sold out the day Eazy dropped I start bangin' red laces in my adidas Drinkin' out a brown paper bag on my first drive-by I was a menace to society But I never left fingerprints on my (Chorus) (Verse 3) I got a lot of dead homies some blood some crip This is life stop watchin' that "Boyz N The Hood" shit You see this red rag hangin' out of my jeans? I went to twenty funerals by the age of ninteen Then I went to college basketball was my dream Quit the team 'cause I rather shoot rock wit' the fiends Wanted to be Freeway Rick He showed me how to turn a stolen 5.0 into a brick Bought a Cadillac thought I was rich bangin' DJ Quik On Crenshaw got jacked for my shit Took a long chronic hit and thought about the time When I was 12 years old and I emptied my first clip Hit my first switch same night f**ked my first bitch Thought I was dreamin' 'til I pinched her tits She caught a stray bullet ridin' shotgun in my shit So I got her name tatted in (Chorus) Ol' English (x4)