Lyrical Breakdown of Run Up - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Run Up" 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 "Run Up" 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 "Run Up" 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!
West Coast, it's all about survival nigga
West Coast, California's own
Black Wall Street, D.P.G.C
You niggas know what it is
Compton and Long Beach back together again...
Security pat downs
I'm a star, motherfucker
I been put' the gat down
I been put' the mack down
But check the people that I'm with
Cause they'll lay you flat down
And they'll do it right now
Yeah, you scared of the phone numbers that a nigga might dial
Club-hop, car shows, picnics
Big cars, big jewels, big dicks
Rush doors
Or gotta hop the fence
Blow this door
Gotta blow my rent
Gotta show my ass, then go repent
Gotta call in sick
And tell 'em where I went
Don't want no problems, ya'll
Fuck around, I'll pull out the problem solved
And watch E pills dissolve
Nine times out of ten, you hoes involved
It's too much gangsta shit goin' on in the fuckin' world
For niggas to be actin' like girls
I'm the Gangbang General, never rhyme a subliminal
12-gauge shotty to your body, a fuckin' criminal
A animal, West Coast beat cannibal
Who got the antidote? I'm sick on this gangsta shit
Not Blood or a Crip, I'm a Anybody Killa
For reala, half Blood half motherfuckin' gorilla
Suicidal, my flow is a automatic rifle
My rag is a flag, I should hang it from the fuckin' Eiffel
Tower, MC's I devour, a lyrical time bomb
I explode to the next episode
Cutlass ridin', butler drivin'
Head low cause it's all about motherfuckin' survivin'
In the city I claim, Westside we bang
The Game, and the D.P.G.C. gang
Goin' goin' back back to the bank
Rest in peace to my safe
I'mma fly nigga nigga I take your ho
I'll have to leave her if she did me like Coco
The devil talkin' to me, but I dont hear him
Act like I'm deaf like So-So
Fuck you, fuck him, fuck them
Fuck my ex and her cohorts
Hundred bottles in the club, for no reason
Niggas start trippin boom bow dope fiend
Fendi on my shoes, Fendi on my belt
I'm in the Fendi store I dont need help
All gold everything like Trinidad
I went to high school with you bitch you been a rat
I don't got money problems, I got trust issues
Two things I gotta stay is with the two pistols