Lyrical Breakdown of Machine Gun Funk - 2005 Remaster - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Machine Gun Funk - 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 "Machine Gun Funk - 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 "Machine Gun Funk - 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!

Yeah

So you wanna be hardcore?

With your hat to the back

Talkin' about the gats in ya raps

But I can't feel that hardcore appeal that you're screamin'

Maybe I'm dreamin'

This ain't Christopher Williams

Still some MC's gotta feel one, caps I gotta peel some

To let niggas know that if you fuck with big-and-heavy

I get up in that ass like a wedgie

Says who? Says me, the lyrical

Niggas sayin', "Biggie off the street, it's a miracle!"

Left the drugs alone, took the thugs along with me

Just for niggas actin' shifty

Sticks and stones break bones, but the gat'll kill ya quicker

Especially when I'm drunk off the liquor

Smokin' funk by the boxes, packin' Glocks-es

It's natural to eat you niggas like chocolates

The funk, baby

"I live for the funk, I'll die for the funk"

All I want is bitches, big-booty bitches

Used to sell crack so I could stack my riches

Now I pack gats to stop all the snitches

From stayin' in my business, what is this?

Relentless approach to know if I'm broke or not

Just 'cause I joke and smoke a lot

Don't mean I don't tote the Glock

16 shots for my niggas in the pen'

Until we motherfuckin' meet again, huh

I'm doin' rhymes now, fuck the crimes now

Come on the Ave, I'm real hard to find now

'Cause I'm knee-deep in the beats

In the Land Cruiser Jeep with the MAC-10 by the seats

For the jackers, the jealous-ass crackers in the-

I'll make you prove that it's bulletproof

Hold your head 'cause when you hit the bricks

I got gin, mad blunts, and bitches suckin' dick

The funk, baby

"I live for the funk, I'll die for the funk"

"I live for the funk, I'll die for the funk" (uh)

"I live for the funk, I'll die for the funk"

So I guess you know the story, the rap-side, crack-side

How I smoke funk, smack bitches on the backside

Bed-Stuy, the place where my head rests

50-shot clip if a nigga want test

The rocket launcher, Biggie stomped ya

High as a motherfuckin' helicopter

That's why I pack a Nina, fuck a misdemeanor

Beatin' motherfuckers like Ike beat Tina

"What's love got to do-"

When I'm rippin' all through your whole crew?

Strapped like Bamboo but I don't sling guns

I got bags of funk, and it's sellin' by the tons

Niggas wanna know how I live the mack life

Makin' money, smokin' mics like crack pipes

It's type, simple and plain, to maintain

I add a little funk to the brain

The funk, baby

"I live for the funk, I'll die for the funk"