Lyrical Breakdown of Hustlin - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Hustlin" 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 "Hustlin" 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 "Hustlin" 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!

Keep on trying You can never hold me down (you can't hold me) You can never hold me down (you can't hold me) You can never hold me down (you can't hold me) C-c-can't hold me This is dope boy music, American Dream We let them choppers sing like that little nigga Dream No Auto-tune unless I'm tuning out the burrough Flying through ya borough, (red) Camaro I had 'em shook like coach on Reggie Bush With that 4-5 coat hanger, bag 'em and let me push I used to get my ass wooped for listenin to Spice 1 On the court, game point, fade away, nice one Same court where the fiends get they white from Hustle 'til the night come Crouch down low, with a pocket full of money Shooting dice in my White 1's Roll another seven of the night on my White 1's I had a jumper, plus I was pumpin' Moms and pops was both gangsters, any drama I will slump 'em How the fuck you think I got the name Game? Same way them Lakers got all of them fucking rings Hustlin' Hustling Championship ring Hustling Metaphor street king (Hustling) my moms worked the graveyard shift She was bustin' it but I was at home straight hustlin' I had two brothers, niggas didn't fuck with 'em They was like, "That's our little brother, don't fuck with him" They shot 'em both so, I was like, fuck it then Called up the homies, "I'm ready, nigga jump me in" Hopped in the G Ride, same one the pump be in I'm 'bout to do these niggas worse than Columbians And I aint hopping out the car like Trey did I'm turnin' off the lights and pullin' up like "Say Kid" Hustlin' championship ring Hustlin' metaphor street king Hustlin' drop top chain swing Hustlin', hustlin It was a cold day in 1996 Fav bar Reasonable Doubt Over Before that day, we aint know shit about Hova He was talking Cristall, and 4.6 Rovers But all we knew were 5.0's and Toyota's So, we took y'alls swag, y'all took our rags The way I see it, it's a fair exchange, why you mad? Son, yeah Jay was one of my teachers Bumpin Roc-A-Fella but couldn't get a feature Was like being underage and couldn't get a beeper Missing sales 'cause the onions still stuck in my sneaker Talkin' to Streetsweeper Dodgin' the Grim Reaper Hit my block after 8 o'clock, I'll make you a believer We was movin' white kid, that Justin Beiber Us and homeless shelters no different, we both feed 'em Playing John Madden, smoking all my nigga weed up Relaxin' with my feet up, waiting for the Re-Up Keep on trying You can never hold me down You can never hold me down (you can't hold me) You can never hold me down (you can't hold me) C-c-can't hold me Keep on trying You can never hold me down You can never hold me down (you can't hold me) You can never hold me down (you can't hold me) C-c-can't hold me How I sell ten million and stay hood, somebody holla at me If I go to jail you niggas ain't gon' throw a dolla at me Like my nigga Frog, threw his Impala at me Like when I was in the Bay and 40 popped his collar at me That's why when I come through, she look like Halle Berry I'm in this Game by myself, Solitaire Every now and then, you might see me with a couple friends Same ones that was right there when I had a couple ends No fuckin' Benz, no fuckin' house Just a fucking couch, so shut yo' fuckin' mouth Before I zip it up, say fuck rap Fuck Interscope, take my contract and rip it up Aftermath's Bad Boy Like BIG and Puff The Giant can't sleep 'cause niggas steady tryna dig him up And while you motherfuckers waitin' on Toronto I'm in the hood with Pancho Stacking Rajon Rondo Hustlin' Championship rings Hustlin' Metaphor street king (Hustling) and while you motherfuckers waitin' on Toronto I'm in the hood with Pancho Stacking Rajon Rondo Keep on trying You can never hold me down You can never hold me down (you can't hold me) You can never hold me down (you can't hold me) C-c-can't hold me Keep on trying You can never hold me down You can never hold me down (you can't hold me) You can never hold me down (you can't hold me) C-c-can't hold me