Welcome to the detailed analysis of "the ends" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.
- Lyric Overview: Witness how undefined weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "the ends" 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 undefined 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 undefined's narrative.
This lyrical analysis of "the ends" not only celebrates undefined'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!
2AM howlin' outside
Lookin' but I cannot find
Don't you fall asleep this time
I been on a long way drive
Only you can stand my mind
Only you can fix inside
So if I make it out tonight
Let's make it a badass time
Okay, I got it, copy
20/20, but I can't see nobody
One eye open, Illuminati
This might be the verse that make 'em drop me
Ain't makin' friends, we just makin' hobbies
No that wasn't my girl, that was just a hobby
Call up 50, tell 'em load up the lobby
Elevator up, no need to find me
Yeah, yeah
X-ray vision, see through you niggas
Newspaper stand, we press the issue
We ain't sendin' shots, we launchin' missiles
Right up at your hood and load
Checkin' Third Ward, I'm goin' mental
Fuckin' up my room, I've been rackin' up incidentals
Cookin' on a tune, I been cheffin' up instrumentals
Nothin' else to do when you're ridin' in the
When you ridin' in the, in the back of the back seat
Driver run the miles up like I'm runnin' a track meet
Gotta watch my back now, cause these niggas at me
All black in a Benz when I pull up on you
They don't want to see me in the ends, in the ends
Let me catch you creeping here past 10, in the ends
From the tribe called check-a-hoe like Indian
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah
Today I'mma take a cheque and cancel left
I guess it's all survival but please be careful
I gave up on the Bible long time ago
I hope it ain't give up on me, I don't know
I came up in the town, they were murderin' kids
And dumped them in the creek up from where I live
Bodies, bodies, bodies sprinkled around
We runnin' through the sprinkler lookin' around
Killer would show up with boxes of pizza
And said he had a label recruitin' people
Put that on my grandma and everythin'
My homie said he told 'em his name was Wayne
It could've been me or could've been you too
What a memory in me, needing to lose
What's gon' patch up my intertube
So I could pop a wheelie and walk it too
Oh yeah, La Flame with the nappy fro now
In the ends, I'mma kick your door down
Oh yeah, we keep wildin' out the Mo' now
Oh yeah, keep that 300 zero when I pull up on ya