Lyrical Breakdown of Felony N****s - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Felony N****s" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

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

This lyrical analysis of "Felony N****s" not only celebrates The Lox'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!

Verse 1 Shhh (two guns up mothafucka, two guns up mothafucka (overlap)) Real shit... styles p shit. If p want you dead, I ain't comin' wit niggas Just a blunt and a tre pound, plenty of liquor So ya homies got something to pour That's that old school shit I ain't tryin' to put you under the floor I'm tryin' ta bang niggas over the clouds And I heard you say you rich So you can't get lower than styles Kill everybody dead just so noone can smile Play the streets my whole life and I been flowin' a while Biget I rock, ever since my nigga was shot and my other nigga Was shoot shit I'm tellin' the truth If I lie, may I die in the middle of the verse My niggas hustle from first to first Twelve months in a year Gun on your waist, blunt in your ear Pat in your sock, trade at the back of the block With a fein watchin' for knorx till the shit get dark We jump in the hoop ride, instead of the six While you lookin' for a bitch, we lookin' for a brick That we can cook by six and give the whole block a fix Catch me on? gettin' sixty a shift Holidy styles, nigga I ain't nothin' but streets Just as hard as the shit, that be under your feet And the only time I front is with a blunt and a beat To show niggas that I'm nice and they ain't fuckin' wit me Chorus Felony niggas Cop cock heavily niggas That'd arm rob seventy niggas You know Murderin' niggas You want doe, they servin' you niggas Stay on fifth, gettin' swervin' on niggas You know Wheather we ryde or we die we gonna get this doe Verse 2 All I know is drugs and guns And plenty of weed And that bitch that suck dick And niggas that bleed And if you're rich before you go Get a watch and a drop You better hit the court house And better bail out the block If your son ain't worth shit Niggas'll smuggle your daughter I come through in a porshe The same color as water I got weight, what you want I can cover the order They call me boss when I cross the border Six shot caught her? I hear niggas say my face is screwed But I'll put six in your stomach nigga Lace your food Scream fuck every rapper that hate that I'm rude But that's that sp shit, you can take it or move We can let the bullets spill, till we all get killed There's only six nice rappers If you wanna be real Niggas die everyday from talking that dumb shit That where they're from shit All that mean to me is you can get your gun quick Just another dumb bitch Go to church to get the holy ghost I did my dirt and got the holy ghost Look at the world through a niggas eyes Dont be a bitch, you gonna live and die Rivin' in the sky, but no love when you slither by I pray to God that we make it to heaven But the only thing we makin' is channel eleven You know four, five and seven, hot as fuck And every rapper be dead, if they were hotter than us But since niggas still alive they should be tellin you somethin' You ain't hear from holiday, he ain't tellin' you nothin' You know.cocksucker. Chorus (2x) (Skit)