Lyrical Breakdown of All Right Then (feat. King Los) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Welcome to the detailed analysis of "All Right Then (feat. King Los)" on Lazyjot. Here, we unravel the lyrical complexity and artistic brilliance that define this iconic song.

• Lyric Overview: Witness how Wyclef Jean weaves words into powerful emotions and vivid imagery. From intricate rhyme schemes to compelling storytelling, every line in "All Right Then (feat. King Los)" 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 Wyclef Jean 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 Wyclef Jean's narrative.

This lyrical analysis of "All Right Then (feat. King Los)" not only celebrates Wyclef Jean'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!

I got ghetto dope in my vein, I got yellow rope on my... I got ghetto dope in my vein, yellow gold on my chain I got ghetto dope in my vein, yellow gold on my chain I fly in that Maserati like Melo go through the lane I say fuck these niggas and what they say You don't know me, pretend to know me Fuck these niggas and what they say You don't know me, pretend to know me I got ghetto dope in my vein, yellow gold on my chain I fly in that Maserati like Melo go through the lane I say fuck these niggas and what I say You don't know me, pretend to know me Fuck these niggas and what they say You don't know me, pretend to know me All right then, all right then All right then, hah? Melo go through the lane, we men all do the same That one McLaren with a seat in the middle now Raised with the killa can while you playin mad man Ain't no superhero here but the X-Men Everybody lookin for survival so they are so The man that hold the gun is the hand that rocks the cradle Born in the gutter, covered in struggle Smothered in hustle where brothers hate you as much as yo mother can love you Motherfuckers that buck you over them green bags Subtracting crème's the method, I'm method over the clean trap It was shock when they shot my father, the shock was on em Was hoppin off em and onto me is a prophet, recall it When I landed in the land of glory I was barely ten I was raised in a hut with them barbarians Burner hear my bubble good, shootin from the project roof Papa was a preacher, I was bishop cause I had the juice Real talk when I rode gone til November It's cause if Baltimore that murdered my nigga in November All right then, hah? I got ghetto dope in my vein, yellow gold on my chain I fly in that Maserati like Melo go through the lane I say fuck these niggas and what I say You don't know me, pretend to know me Fuck these niggas and what they say You don't know me, pretend to know me All right then, all right then, hah? It's the author, unorthodox Orthodoxin the water, no culture shop You ain't strapped, you a hold the top I holt the top 'cause the bottom comin Got em runnin, call the cops I'm callin shots like tech whistles Fuck you like groupie tex, detects missiles that be technical Ya'll niggas is ho oh oh oh oh oh Fuck em, we flippin bundles, them bitches tumble like Gold medal winners, gold medal in em, boy we stretch em When we catch him it's like he caught a cold 'Cause he get a coffee, never speak on it cold Never geek on yo niggas and never creep with a ho That be exactly how they found you, just a creep and a ho My niggas be quick to pull them litres, leave you leakin for dough All right then, all right then, hah? I got ghetto dope in my vein, yellow gold on my chain I fly in that Maserati like Melo go through the lane Pour some liquor 'cause the good die young Banana clipped up but he sure young Welcome to the jungle where they treat us like we animals Haiti, the Bitstock chronicles Murder murder – that's what you hear when they pull up in the middle of the night When they ready for the stick up Hiccup hiccup hiccups, you ain't bout the rubber grip If you only had 3, why would one be a death wish This is the truth but I said this before Whether I'm in Haiti or Baltimore Import more shooters who run through yo door And it'll be yo body lyin on the floor Out in the mob, they go through your organ In the church they play the organ C-c-c-c-ca-cry-cry-crows-crows fly fly It's 5 o'clock, do you know? You kids, ha-have you been notified-fied-fied All right then, all right then All right then, hah? All right then, all right then All right then, hah?