Lyrical Breakdown of Hold Ya Head - A Journey through Words and Rhymes
Welcome to the detailed analysis of "Hold Ya Head" 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 "Hold Ya Head" 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 "Hold Ya Head" 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!
Woman hold her head and cry
Cause her son had been shot down in the street and died
Woman hold her head and cry
Cause her son had been shot down in the street and died
When I die, fuck it I wanna go to hell
Cause I'm a piece of shit, it ain't hard to fuckin' tell
It don't make sense, goin' to heaven wit' the goodie-goodies
Dressed in white, I like black Tims and black hoodies
God will probably have me on some real strict shit
No sleepin' all day, no gettin my dick licked
Hangin' with the goodie-goodies loungin' in paradise
Fuck that shit, I wanna tote guns and shoot dice
All my life I been considered as the worst
Lyin' to my mother, even stealin' out her purse
Crime after crime, from drugs to extortion
I know my mother wished she got a fuckin' abortion
Woman hold her head and cry
Cause her son had been shot down in the street and died
I swear to God I wanna just slit my wrists and end this bullshit
Throw the Magnum to my head, threaten to pull shit
And squeeze, until the bed's, completely red
I'm glad I'm dead, a worthless fuckin' buddah head
The stress is buildin' up, I can't
I can't believe suicide's on my fuckin' mind
I want to leave, I swear to God I feel like death is fuckin' callin' me
Naw you wouldn't understand
You see its kinda like the crack did to Pookie, in New Jack
Except when I cross over, there ain't no comin' back
Should I die on the train track, like Remo in Beatstreet
People at the funeral frontin' like they miss me
My baby momma kissed me but she glad I'm gone
She knew me and her sister had somethin' goin' on
I wonder if I died, would tears come to her eyes?
Forgive me for my disrespect, forgive me for my lies
Woman hold her head and cry
Cause her son had been shot down in the street and died
I reach my peak, I can't speak
Call my nigga Chic, tell him that my will is weak
I'm sick of niggaz lyin', I'm sick of bitches hawkin'
Matter of fact, I'm sick of talkin'