Lyrical Breakdown of Trap Boom - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Three 6 Mafia weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Trap Boom" 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 Three 6 Mafia 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 Three 6 Mafia's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Trap Boom" not only celebrates Three 6 Mafia'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!

[Intro/Chorus: repeat 2X] I make the trap - BOOM BOOM [4X] I got soft, I got hard, I got pills, I got balls [2X] [Project Pat] Rocks under my balls, pistol in my drawers A bird of blow on the table break quarters and halves off For those who comin through this ain't Casino but I'm your dealer Tony Montana, chill like Al Pacino in "Scarface" nigga The jack boys talk a lot of noise but on the realla Got killers posted up, e'ry Goldfinger's a trigger Her-on is so intense, the syrup goin by the ounce Put the money in my hands, cop your goods, and then you bounce [Verse Two] See I ain't the nigga that was up at five o'clock to sell no rocks I'm the nigga that was out at midnight to drop off a block In a tinted out Maxima, they low-key and quick Snowin out the do' with a glock and a trunk full of bricks I make the track BOOM BOOM without even touchin it As for my black {?} I'm just supplyin it I went to Key West and picked it up, back in Memphis broke it up Call my nigga in, get our Crist', then we split it up [Chorus] [Verse Three] His dope sales are up, a nigga feelin bellish His pockets swellin cause e'rything he's sellin The heat is on the street, my niggaz gettin jealous The chopper's on the seat to cut you up like relish The hood ain't changed, got these niggaz still tellin To lock this nigga up a two-time felon This boy ain't bullshittin he'll kick in doors and kill 'em And hide them bodies good that you cain't even smell 'em He niggarish and ignorant so FUCK who in your crib This gangster life he livin it so fuck your wife and kids~! These janky niggaz on the town I hope they know the biz To all you federal tattletales, swap out where you live [Chorus] [Outro - dialogue] You know the worst part about sellin dope is 80% of black people in jail Because of drugs, domestic violence and murder So you should think about that Get your life together my nigga