Lyrical Breakdown of Long Live Da Game - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

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

  • Lyric Overview: Witness how T.I. weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "Long Live Da Game" 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 T.I. 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 T.I.'s narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "Long Live Da Game" not only celebrates T.I.'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!

YEA.

Dis for all my niggaz who think dey hard.

You wanna know whats hard(whats hard pimp?)

Goin about yo day nigga losin yo life at the end of it

Now dats whats hard...(MINDING MY MUTHAFUCKING BUSINESS)

Let me tell yall bout the last day I lived nigga

I'm in the 96 Impala with the gat in my lap

Annihilating any nigga tryin to work in my trap

Now see the feds got me tap'd

So to keep 'em off of my bac

I got a crib in the trap and a crib to relax

Now my indictment was a secret and thats the way that they keep it

If I aint have a hoe givin head to the feds

Comin bac tellin me exactly what they said

I'm a dead man walkin.

Waitin on time in jail

But I'll die before I let 'em stop my mail

Long as I got another ounce to sell

What the hell I'ma bail? a grap my scale

Get another key and I'ma slang my yayo

Niggaz on the westside cant re-up becuz its a drought

So I check the crack house.

DAMN it sold out

So back to the crib so I can check this stash

Aint sure about how much dope I had

Got a couple keyz in the safe right now

Weigh it up cook it up then chop it down

Now I'm ready to go and pick up my fetti

But before I leave the house I cant dip without grabbin my G'z

And my keyz to my brand new V put 'em in pocket with the gat to see

Niggaz pleeze nigga you holla bout freeze

Put this red dot to ya ass and squeeze

Now I'm dippin bac to the swats

With the 4-4 and a plastic glock

Turned around and I had to stop

Couldnt trap swarn it wuz cops

Standin there and I still aint scared

Mac Boney nem must have fled

Only cops is I fear is the feds

On my car flashin blue and red

Damn there dey go now its time to dip

Got the 4-4 right my hip

9 millimeter wit a extra clip

Dats what yall niggaz get fuckin round wit TIP

Bustin at 'em

N cussin at 'em but aint no shakin 'em

Them bullets dat they wuz bustin at me my vest wuz takin 'em

Makin dem pigs fall in pain

Turned around cuz one call my name

Took a hot one to the brain

Yea I died but LONG LIVE THA GAME.