Lyrical Breakdown of I Love The Dough (feat. Jay-Z & Angela Winbush) - 2005 Remaster - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "I Love The Dough (feat. Jay-Z & Angela Winbush) - 2005 Remaster" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how The Notorious B.I.G. weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "I Love The Dough (feat. Jay-Z & Angela Winbush) - 2005 Remaster" 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 Notorious B.I.G. 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 Notorious B.I.G.'s narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "I Love The Dough (feat. Jay-Z & Angela Winbush) - 2005 Remaster" not only celebrates The Notorious B.I.G.'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!

Uhh, uhh Uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh Hah, what, I like this Uhh, uhh, I like this What? Uhh, what? Uhh We push the hottest V's, peel fast Through the city, play Monopoly with real cash Me and Biggie and the models be, shaking they saditty ass And parotta be, somethin you cats got to see And the watches be all types and shapes of stones Bein broke is childish and I'm quite grown Run up in the club with the ice on, me and Paisan' Scope the spot out, see somethin nice and I'm gone You cats is home, screamin the fight's on I'm in the fifteen hundred seats, watchin Ty-son Same night, same fight But one of us cats ain't playin right, I let you tell it People place yourselves in the shoes of two felons And tell me you won't ball every chance you get And any chance you hit, we live for the moment Makes sense don't it? Now make dollars Cats pop bottles bone chicks that favor Idalis And rack up frequent flier mileage Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey I love the dough, more than you know Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey I'm poppin Magnums while Jigga bag somethin Watch is platinum, got jet lag from Flights back and forth, pop corks of the best grapes Make the best CD's and the best tapes Don't forget the vinyl, take girls break spinals Biggie be Richie like Lionel, shit You seen the Jesus, dipped to H classes Ice project off lights, chick flashes Blind your broke asses, even got rocks in big mustaches Rock top fashions Ain't shit changed, except the number after the dot On the Range, way niggaz look at me now, kinda strange I hate y'all too Rather be in Carribean sands with Rachael It's unreal, out the blue Frank White got sex appeal Bitches used to go, "Ewww!" Still tote steel, tryin to see five mil Off the sin-gle, for real You ain't fazin the amazin While your gun's raisin, mine is blazin See you on see me all talkin to sweetness Take it for weakness and leave quick Blocker, Roc-a-, Fella, Bad Boy collabo Two MC's with mad dough, ju' know! I love the dough, more than you know Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey I love the dough, more than you know Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey Miracu-lous, pockets stay full Niggaz skip the bull cause we matadors Snatch the P-89's that we pack in the drawers And we, clappin doors in your Acuras Snap like, cameras on amateurs Make you all dance, hold a hammer to yours Jig and Big rock ice, no cracks or flaws Erybody got a part to play, back to yours Run up in your crib now, crack your doors Watch the real players live, it's a habit to floss Play the charts like the Beatles, y'all adapt you lost And toast Cristal on behalf of y'all Too bad for y'all, ain't too many as bad as yours Truly, do we, we laugh at y'all Little bastards y'all Uhh, uhh We hit makers with acres Roll shakers in Vegas, you can't break us Lost chips on Lakers, gassed off Shaq Country house, tennis courts on horseback Ridin decidin cracked crab or lobster Who say mobsters don't prosper Niggaz is actors, niggaz deserve Oscars Me I'm, critically acclaimed, slug past your brain Reminesce on dames who, coochie used to stink When we rocked house pieces and puffy Gucci links Now we buy homes in unfamiliar places Tito smile everytime he see our faces Cases catch more than outfield-ers Half these rappin cats, ain't seen war Couldn't score if they had point game, they lame Speak my name, I make em dash like Dame I love the dough, more than you know Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey I love the dough, more than you know Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey I love the dough, more than you know Gotta let it show, I love the dough, hey